


Beauty and The Devil

by Dorians Kiss (larrymylove)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Banter, Body Worship, Dom Louis, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Harry becomes his muse, Kink, Kink Negotiation, Laughter, Laughter During Sex, Louis is a photographer, M/M, Sex and art, Spanking, Sub Harry, Teasing, Tickling, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrymylove/pseuds/Dorians%20Kiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Summary: When Harry Styles moves to New York City, he is swept off his feet by Louis Tomlinson, upcoming photographer. And Harry quickly becomes Louis’ muse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My two loves - The Velvet Underground, and The Picture of Dorian Gray sort of mold together to form this little thing. I hope you enjoy! It is a bit different. Also, I base Louis’ character loosely off of Robert Mapplethorpe who is one of my favorite and most loved artists.

Harry Styles pulls his jacket tighter around his shoulders, trying to seek some refuge from the cold, unforgiving rain. His black leather boots slap against the rain-slick pavement, sending up little splashes of murky water with each step. His breath, dragon’s smoke, floats along in front of his chapped lips. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. His fingers, while tucked up into his palms, feel like they’re being stabbed repeatedly with tiny little needles. His nose would feel the same had it not gone numb minutes prior. It was quite silly of him to move to New York when he detested the cold so much. Yet here he was. Walking along the streets of New York City in the rain in the middle of October.

Harry kept his eyes on the pavement below. The oil in the streets mixed with the rainwater, creating beautiful watercolors of opal and bismuth. Next to the that, a paper bag from McDonald's was dissolving into a pile of mush that smelled like stale grease and gym socks. Harry wrinkled his nose as he walked past. Not too much further now until he’d be at his apartment.

It wasn’t the nicest - or even nice at all for that matter. It was a dingy old red brick thing with a buzzer that didn’t work and iron cages on the windows. Harry had more than once had to kick a syringe out of his way as he descended the stairwell. Most nights, his lullabies were the sounds of screaming people and babies. Sometimes the sounds of shattering glass. A dog barking on occasion. A siren. Harry tried not to mind them though. A small price to pay for getting to live in New York City, right? And as far as Harry could remember, this was where he wanted to be.

He stumbled upon his apartment. There was no method of security. He just opened the main door and headed inside. The stairs were littered with black splotches of old chewing gum and lipstick stained cigarette butts. Harry kicked another syringe out of his way as he headed up the steps to his fifth floor apartment. Once at his floor, he headed down the green-tinged hallway. A florescent light flickered and buzzed above his head. Surely it’d give out at any moment. The thought was anything but comforting to Harry. He found his apartment - 4B. Digging the key from his pocket, he unlocked his door, and slipped inside.

First things first. He locked the locks. There were five of them. The apartment had only come with three, but Harry had installed two deadbolts the second day of living there after having been kept awake all night to what he now referred to as his lullabies. After installing the locks, he had set about trying to make the small two-room apartment feel more like a home. It had been a difficult task, but Harry had been persistent. He’d purchased a colorful beaded curtain to hand between the living room/kitchen and the bathroom. He’d also purchased quite a few throw pillows to add touches of hominess and color to the drab, puke colored couch he’d bought off Craigslist. He had a small coffee table in between the couch and the TV which had several scented candles and a small vase of flowers. Actually, he had scented candles scattered on most every surface there was. He had needed something - anything - to cover the smell of mildew.

Harry had only been living here for a little over a week now. And already, the small apartment was becoming more and more like home. He had hung fairy lights around the living area. There was a woven rug under the coffee table. He even had houseplants that he may, or may not, speak to every once in awhile. The point is, the place feels like home. And once his door is shut, and locks are done, he can almost - almost - forget what is just outside his door. At least until the screaming starts.

But Harry has a solution for that as well. He walked over to the corner of the living room where an old turntable was sitting on top of a TV tray. Underneath the TV tray was a cardboard box of numerous records that Harry’s father had left to him - records from the time he was Harry’s age and filled with discovery and stardust and magic and bright hopes and not black tumors and death. Harry crouched at the cardboard box, picking out his favorite record - The Velvet Underground and Nico. He was quite sure Lou Reed’s voice could chase away demons - even if they couldn’t chase away his own. Harry put the record on the table and let Lou Reed’s voice fill the quiet. And yes, Harry felt quite at home now.

Listening to these records - especially The Velvet Underground - Harry almost felt as though his dad was right there with him. And that was a comforting thought, really. He felt not so alone in this strange city. And when Harry listened to his father’s records, he could close his eyes and imagine that yes, everything was okay. His father hadn’t been taken by the cancer that had filled his lungs. And Harry was still back home in Cheshire. But Harry’s father had been taken by the cancer in his lungs. And after years of caring for his father and watching him fade away into a pale nothingness until finally nothing remained but a shell, Harry had come to New York. Unable to stay in Cheshire. After all, without his father, nothing was really stopping him from taking off and setting out on his own. And the day after the funeral, Harry had bought a ticket to New York. Some people probably thought that was cold, but Harry just needed to get away. Needed a fresh start.

And now here he was.

He heated a can of Campbell’s Tomato Soup on the stove. After his soup was warm, he sat down at the small kitchen table to drink his soup. As he spooned the boiling liquid slowly to his lips, Harry unfolded the newspaper from his bag. It was damp from the rain, but Harry peeled it apart and found the classifieds section. He needed a job. The money his father had left him - what was left after expenses - had gone to getting him here, and getting him this place. But Harry needed to make rent and he rather enjoyed not starving. So he scanned the classifieds looking for something - anything really at this point.

One ad caught his attention.

_“Photographer in need of receptionist. Come by 232 B Street. Ask for Louis.”_

Harry smiled softly as he blew on his hot spoonful of soup. He always did like photography. And a receptionist didn’t sound too impossibly hard. Harry knew his way around a computer and telephone. Tomorrow, he would get up early, get dressed, and go to 232 B Street. And he would ask for Louis. And he’d be charming and polite and kind and professional. And he would get that job. He was quite sure of it!

Harry rinsed out his bowl in the sink and got ready for bed. He climbed into his queen-sized bed, lit his cinnamon and vanilla candles, and fell asleep to the sound of Lou Reed singing him to sleep.

When he awoke the next morning, Harry began to get ready. He had a philosophy you see. That if you look good, you feel good. And that confidence comes from appearance. Anyone could fake confidence with the right amount of aid from product. Harry showered, letting the steam engulf him as he shampooed his hair with his most favorite green apple shampoo. After finishing his hair and soaping up the rest of his body, he stepped out of the shower and onto the mildew-caked tile floor. He wrapped the towel around his waist and applied moisturizer to his face. He let his curls naturally dry so they fell in loose, soft locks around his shoulders. Next, he needed to pick out what he’d wear. He needed this job. He needed to impress.

Harry settled on a black dress shirt and black dress pants. He put on his typical black leather boots and glanced at himself in the full length mirror. One thing was missing though. He grabbed the silver cross necklace off his dresser and draped it over his head. He didn’t look bad at all. Quite the opposite really. He looked professional. Clean-shaven. He looked like he was organized and confident. And Harry Styles just knew he was going to charm Louis and get this job. He just had to!

When he got to 232 B, he realized it was a loft. He rang the buzzer and was told to head on up. Harry climbed into the metal elevator shaft. He felt quite like he was in a cage, and had a mental image of diving with sharks. An imagine that did nothing to calm his nerves - which were practically aflame at the moment. Ah yes, you could fake confidence with good clothes and beauty products. But there was absolutely no amount of product to help calm you enterally. And Harry felt quite like a mess. His stomach was constricting and his intestines felt as though they were tired into knots. And in spite of the chilly weather just outside, Harry felt as though he were burning from the inside - his body a kiln.

The elevator doors opened and Harry was standing now in an expansive loft. There was a massive wooden door separating the loft in two sections. This section, the one where Harry was standing, housed nothing more than a simple glass computer desk and computer. A woman behind the desk glanced up at him. She had dark eye makeup - darker than Harry had ever seen anyone in any professional setting wear. She also had red lipstick on. She was dressed in a tiny black dress that barely covered her rear. Harry felt slightly ill. He glanced down at his tucked in dress shirt and thanked God he hadn’t worn the tie he’d debated.

“Can I help you, sir? Do you have an appointment?” The woman asked.

“N-no. I um...I saw the ad in the paper. I’m here to meet with Louis about the er...the receptionist position.” Yeah. Any confidence Harry had managed to trick himself into had completely vanished.

“Oh, right then! Excuse me for a mom, will you. Let me go fetch him for you.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Harry was left standing there alone as the woman slid the heavy wooden door back and ducked inside. Harry glanced around. Everything was blank. White. He felt rather out of place. And he wondered if maybe he could just leave. But he had come here with a purpose and that purpose was to impress Louis and get this job. And that’s what Harry would do. He clasped his hands in front of him as he waited for what seemed like hours when it actuality, it was only a few minutes. He had gotten a little lost in his thoughts, and the sound of the heavy door sliding open again came as a bit of a surprise in the silence.

Harry had been staring down at his boots, and upon hearing the door, glanced up. In front of him was the most beautiful man Harry had ever laid eyes on. He was short - shorter than Harry - but he commanded attention. In spite of his short stature, he radiated strength and power. He was wearing simple blue jeans and a black turtle neck. And Harry would have rolled his eyes at the cliched attire had it not been for suddenly getting lost in the man’s craterous cheekbones. Harry wondered if they’d come with a weapon permit. They looked like they could cut a man to shreds. And his eyes? Oh the deepest sea glass blue Harry had ever seen! But in an instant, they had turned to ice. And his eyes slitted into a glare. Suddenly the entire mood seemed to shift. And Harry felt as though something was crumbling down around him.

“Absolutely not!” The man said with a scoff, “No!”

“Excuse me?” Harry’s brow furrowed. The man was glaring at him with such a look of disgust that Harry could hardly stand it, “I’m Harry Styles. I’m here for the interview. For the receptionist’s position…I saw the ad in the newspaper. It said to just stop by and ask for a Louis. Are you Louis?” When the man said nothing, Harry tried again, “Well, like I said. I’m Harry Styles. It’s nice to meet you,” he held out his hand in an attempt to get some sort of response here. He hated the silence. All he could hear was the sound of his blood in his ears. And those sea glass eyes were boring in on him as though Harry was some sort of specimen.

“I’m sorry,” the voice was like crushed velvet, “But you aren’t what I am looking for, Harry Styles. I am sorry you wasted your time. But you just aren’t what we’re looking for here.”

“But...but you don’t even know anything about me!” Harry protested. Surely this wasn’t happening. Was this man not even going to give him a fair shot? Harry deserved a fair shot, didn’t he?

“I can just tell by looking at you,” the man raised a brow and folded his arms over his chest. He looked annoyed at Harry’s insistence.

“That’s discrimination!” Harry cried out, suddenly feeling very hot and very much on fire.

“Is it now?” The man raised his brow again, and there may have been something along the lines of a bemused smirk playing coily on his lips, but Harry really didn’t care enough to pay enough attention. All he felt was anger.

“Yes!” Harry cried again, “I came all this way! I need this job! And I took time out of my day that could have been spent job hunting elsewhere. I came all this way for an interview or at least something. You won’t even give me a second of your time!”

“Seems like I’ve definitely given you more than a second. Unless your perception of time differs from mine, Harold. I am sorry that you wasted your time. But you just are not right for this position. I am quite sorry. But it is what it is.” The man hardly sounded sorry at all. He sounded bitter and annoyed but also a little amused. And Harry just felt hot.

“Listen, I am a hard worker. I know my way around a computer. I can take calls and schedule appointments. I am very organized. I am also very professional! I know how to do a job and do it well. I am a perfectionist. I will do whatever it is you ask of me and I will do it perfectly!”

“That so?” The man let out a soft bark of a laugh, “Look, I am sorry once again. But you just are not the right fit for L.W.T Photography. And that’s that,” he held up his hands as though he had no more choice in the matter but to be done with Harry, “Try not to feel badly, darling. You will find work elsewhere. Just not here.”

“But I need to find a job and…”

“And I have said numerous times, no. Do you not understand the word no, Harold? It’s quite a simple little word. No.”

“I’ll do anything!” Harry cried out, begging almost, “Anything you ask of me. I’ll do it!”

“Anything?” The man’s smile was serpentine, “Darling, something tells me that’s just not true. And liar isn’t a good look on you, babe. You’re far too pretty to lie. So don’t.”

Harry didn’t know how to even go about responding to that. He knew he should just leave. Clearly, he wasn’t wanted here. He should just turn around and wash his hands of L.W.T Photography and of Louis. But there was that stubborn part of him that wanted to know why. Why was he not good enough to work here? Why was he not good enough for at least a fair chance?

“Fine then. I’ll leave. But please, just tell me why it is that I am not good enough to work here. Tell me why you won’t hire me. Tell me why you won’t at least give me a shot. Tell me why you won’t give me the position.”

“You want to know why you can’t have the position? Because, darling. It’s not for you.”

“Don’t call me darling,” Harry felt his blood bubble and turn to soda within his veins, “You don’t know me. You don’t what I’m capable of. How could you when you won’t even give me a fair shot here, Louis? I am assuming you’re Louis. You won’t even give me a chance. So how can you possibly know what is, and what isn’t, for me?”

“Fine then,” Louis made his way over to the desk and plucked out a black notebook from a drawer. He handed it casually to Harry and said, “Here. Take a look, Harold. If you want to know why you can’t work here, this is why.”

Harry opened the binder, his curiosity piqued. Once he saw what was inside though, he slammed the binder shut with a loud crack. His cheeks were ablaze as he handed the binder back to Louis, who was smirking madly - riding on a high of having his point proved.

“That’s what I thought,” Louis said, taking the binder from Harry’s hands, “You’re blushing.”

“I-I had no idea it’d be this kind of photography,” Harry explained, feeling bashful and ashamed. He quite wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. And Louis? Louis’ eyes were sparkling wildly. He was laughing at him. And that only caused Harry to feel worse about the whole situation. He was quite sure he’d never been so embarrassed in his whole life - not even that time his pants ripped on the playground as a child and everyone had laughed. No. This felt far, far worse.

“Well, now you know,” Louis replied simply, tossing the binder on to the desk. The woman hid a snicker behind her wrist. And Harry felt white hot heat spread throughout his entire body. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Harry had to remind himself to shut his mouth that had somehow dropped open in pure shock or rage - he wasn’t sure which. He’d never felt so mortified, so dismissed, before in his entire life.  

_I had no idea,_ Harry thought to himself as he rode the elevator down to ground level, _How could I have possibly known? The ad hadn’t said anything of that sort. And he...he was such an egotistical jerk about it all! Honestly! I have never encountered someone so...outright mean! It’s for the best. This is for the best. I don’t think I could have stood to work for someone like that in the first place._

Three weeks had passed since Harry had gone to L.W.T Photography. And in that time, he had found another job. And sure, while being a waiter in a 50’s themed diner didn’t seem quite as posh as the receptionist to a photographer, Harry felt that in spite of the rollerskates he was required to wear, he had more dignity than he would working for a man like Louis.

And Harry convinced himself that it wasn’t so bad. He got fairly good tips. Good tips that went towards ointment for the blisters from his rollerskates. But still, good tips. And the music was fun. Though he had heard What’s New Pussycat almost a hundred times by now. And sure some bratty teenager had spent almost twenty bucks to request What’s New Pussycat on repeat for a whole evening. But that was beside the point. The point was, in spite of smelling like grease and in spite of the blisters and in spite of falling several times and banging himself up, and in spite of What’s New Pussycat being forever ingrained in Harry’s memory, it was still better than working for Louis.

One Friday night though, after his shift, Harry decided he needed to get out. He was living in New York for Christ’s sakes! He needed to live that up and take full advantage of it. After getting off work, he ran back to his place to changed into different attire. He settled for his tight black pants and a white flowy button down, which he chose to leave unbuttoned save for the last two at the very bottom. He slipped on his boots and headed out. He took a taxi to the club district - not really sure where he was going and what he was doing. But there was a bar called The Limelight and Harry thought that sounded like as good a place as any.

So he headed inside after paying the cab driver. It was a loud, messy sort of bar. There was live music - some sort of 90s cover band playing bad renditions of Nirvana songs. Harry winced as they destroyed Aneurysm. He pressed his way through the crowd and up to the bar. Harry had turned 21 just a few months prior. He still had no idea about various drinks and he thought names like Fuzzy Navel and Sex on The Beach were funny and they still made him giggle. So once the bartender turned to him and asked him with an impatient tone what he wanted, Harry blanked.

“You don’t know what you want?” She raised a skeptical brow, tossing her silver hair over a bare and tanned shoulder - the color of apricot, “God. Okay then. Um. I’ll come back to you once you make up your mind then?”

“Be sure to check his ID,” a crisp voice said behind Harry, “Doesn’t look old enough to drive, much less drink, Lot.”

Harry scowled, turning to see none other than Louis standing behind him. Louis was dressed in the same attire Harry had last seen him in. He looked absolutely elegant. And Harry hated him. His very presence felt like an annoying buzz, tickling at Harry’s ears.

“What do you want?” Harry mumbled, “And just so you know, I am twenty-one. I’ll happily show my ID to whoever requires it.”

“Sure thing, little one,” Louis slid into the seat at the bar next to Harry, “Lot, my usual please!”

“Don’t call me little one,” Harry grimaced at the nickname, “Don’t sit next to me either. I want nothing to do with you.”

“That wasn’t what you said a few weeks ago,” Louis grinned as the bartender slid him an amber colored drink in a short glass, “Practically were begging me on bended knee to let you work for me,” Louis suddenly bit at his bottom lip, scanning Harry once painfully slowly. Harry gulped visibly, feeling rather naked at the moment.

“What?” He finally croaked and Louis just chuckled, lifting his drink to his lips.

“Nothing, little one. Just imagining what you’d look like on your knees.”

“Christ!” Harry choked on his own saliva. Once he’d stopped coughing, he turned to Louis with flushed cheeks and angry eyes, “Do you always just say things like that to people?”

“Not always,” Louis replied coolly before running a finger down Harry’s exposed chest, “Do you always just forget how buttons work, Harold?”

Harry batted Louis’ hand away, trying to ignore the heat left in it’s wake. “It’s just Harry, Lewis. Harry. Not Harold.”

“Sure thing, Harold. Lottie love. Put young Harold here’s drinks on my tab, please.”

“What...what are you doing?” Harry frowned, absolutely perplexed by the man sitting next to him. He’d never met anyone like Louis before in his whole life. And Harry figured he’d quite like to go back to having never met Louis before in his whole life.

“Buying your drinks for the night,” Louis smiled sweetly over the brim of his glass.

“And why are you doing that?” Harry asked, exasperated and trying not to focus too hard at how the sea glass eyes were still glued to him and sparkling like the brightest of all the stars in the galaxies.

“Because I may or may not feel a bit bad, Harold. I was a bit of a prat to you the other day when you came by. It was not fair of me. I should have been kinder. I am sorry for that. So to make that up for you, I’d like to buy your drinks tonight. And I will not be told no, do you understand?”

“Um...okay,” Harry nodded once, not sure what else to say. He couldn’t explain it, but the way Louis had sounded when he’d said, “And I will not be told no,” had caused Harry’s skin to prickle with goosebumps. Louis smiled, satisfied before taking another sip of his drink.

“Well go on then. Tell Lottie what you’d like to drink.”

“Um...just a glass of white wine please,” Harry said and Lottie stared at him as though he’d sprouted an extra head, but went about preparing his drink.

“You’re having white wine!” Louis sounded a mix of both horrified and amused, “Harold, you are something else!”

“I like white wine,” Harry merely shrugged, “I might as well order what I like.”

“True,” Louis nodded. Lottie placed Harry’s wine glass in front of him and Louis said, “Thank you, dear sister!”

“She’s your sister?” Harry asked, taking a taste of his wine. For some reason, the thought of Louis having anyone other than himself was surprising. Harry was still clutching onto the image of Louis being the biggest asshole in the entire world. And he wasn’t about to let that mental image falter any time soon.

“Yes darling. Lottie is my baby sister. The only reason I break away from my usual places of drunkenness and debauchery is because she sometimes gives me a free drink or two. If I’m good,” Louis sent Lottie a sweet smile. She simply rolled her eyes and made her way to the next customers, “So tell me young Harold. Did you ever find a job?”

“Yes,” Harry sipped his wine. He didn’t want to tell Louis about the diner and the skates and the blisters and What’s New Pussycat.

“Well, good for you. I knew you’d find some sort of work sooner than later. What with a sweet face like yours. That face,” Louis lifted his glass, “is the reason I couldn’t hire you, sweet one. You are far too sweet to work at my studio. And I will not be responsible for corrupting some cherubic young thing like yourself.”

“You mean with your pornography,” Harry replied simply.

“What you call pornography, I call art,” Louis took another relaxed sip of his drink, “Art that simply glorifies the human form. And the human form, in it’s own right, is a work of art. Is it not, Harold?”

“I-I wouldn’t know.”

“Ah,” Louis turned away, taking another sip of his drink.

Harry frowned into his wine glass. Finally, he turned back to Louis and asked, “Did you ever find a receptionist?” For some reason, Louis’ silence was worse than his talking. And Harry wanted to keep him talking.

“Yes,” Louis set the glass, now empty, down, “Her name is Abby. She’s modeled for me before.”

“Model?” Harry scoffed, “Is that what you call it, Louis?”

“Of course. That is what it is, Harry. Modeling. You call it pornography. But it’s not. It’s really not. Those who come to be photographed, I treat them as I would any type of client - with the utmost care and respect. No one is forced into anything or is degraded in any way - not unless they ask to be. Porn is something else entirely, young one. Those who come to me do so because they want to feel beautiful. Sexy. They want their fantasies and desires photographed and immortalized. Had a woman come to me last month. In her eighties. She wanted to do a nude shoot. Because she wanted to feel sexy and beautiful again. And do you know how purely beautiful a thing that is? To give someone that? To make them feel that way?”

“I never thought about it like that before,” Harry shrugged quietly.

“Because you’ve never thought about it period, Harold. And as soon as you saw my portfolio, you looked stricken. And I knew you wouldn’t be a good fit. You just don’t understand it, Harry. You don’t understand what I do. And that’s okay. It is. You’re young and innocent and you haven’t been exposed to this world of mine. And that’s fine. But because of that, I couldn’t hire you.”

Harry knew Louis’ words were supposed to be some sort of explanation and comfort. But all Harry felt was even worse. Louis told him he didn’t understand it. And a little voice in the back of Harry’s head whispered - _well explain it to me._

“I am going to invite you to my home,” Louis said after they’d finished their second drinks, “Because I have another portfolio I want to show you. Different from what you saw at the studio. And you can say no. And I’d understand. Or you can succumb to your curiosity, and agree to come back with me.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Harry’s brows knitted together.

“Faith, love. All about faith. You may not trust me yet. So take a blind leap of faith and let me prove to you that I can be trusted. I won’t do anything to break your trust in me, young one. Just come back with me. Let me show you my art.”

“Sounds like a line,” Harry mused, a small smile playing on his lips.

“God,” Louis winced, laughing though, “It does! I’m sorry. I didn’t...I don’t…”

“Louis, it’s fine,” Harry said assuredly, placing a hand on Louis’ knee before realizing what he’d done, “I’ll come with you.” By the time Harry did realize his hand was on Louis’ knee, he didn’t care enough to move it.

Louis hailed them a cab. He held open the car door for Harry as Harry slid inside. And once they reached Louis’ flat, Louis held open the door for Harry to go inside first. Louis’ flat was exactly what Harry had pictured - all black, white, modern, and clean. But it still managed to feel warm. Comfortable. Like a home. Harry stood in the doorway a moment before Louis finally motioned him over to the couch.

“C’mere,” Louis pulled a black binder from the coffee table, “Let me show you.”

Harry sat down next to Louis on the black leather sectional couch. Louis clutched the binder to his chest as though it were his most prized possession.

“This is my portfolio,” he explained, still clutching the binder, “Or at least what I have so far. It’s not much, but someday when I make it big and all these will look like crap compared to what I’ll be able to do then, they will be worth something. Right now though, they’re really crude. Just mostly polaroid shots. I wanted to share them with you. I want you to see...that there’s two sides to everything. I don’t want you to see me a pornographer when that’s not who I am, Harry. I want you to see...well…” Louis handed the binder to Harry, “...me.”

“I want to see,” Harry took a deep breath, unsure of what he’d see upon opening the binder. He turned to the first page. It was of an image of a man - from the neck down - completely nude. Harry’s lips parted slightly as he stared at the photograph before him. It was black and white, but the shadows Louis had created...the man looked more like a work of art than anything. And Harry thought of the nude statutes of the greek gods. What Michelangelo did with marble, Louis rivaled with his film.

Harry turned to the next page. The same naked man, same pose, but this time he was holding a whip in his hand. Harry’s breath hitched in his lungs. Louis must have sensed it, because he was quick to explain -

“That one is more of an exploratory piece. I am fascinated by the eternal struggle of sex and violence in the subconscious mind. I don’t know. Maybe I think too much into it. I just think there’s something beautiful about it. There’s beauty in pain, Harry. I know there is.”

Harry pulled his lips tighter, quietly turning to the next page. His interest was most certainly piqued now. He was fascinated by the young photographer and his philosophies. Harry was hungry to learn more, to see more, to hear more. He wanted Louis to explain all of this to him. He was desperate to understand.

As Harry turned the pages, he found that amidst the photographs of naked bodies, there were also black and white photographs of beautiful flowers. Some taking sexual form. Some just...being. There were also photographs of people fully clothed. Of mothers cradling their children in their arms. The stark contrasts confused Harry and delighted him at the same time. He was hungry - so hungry to know more about how Louis perceived things. How Louis’ mind worked.

“These...these are really good,” Harry said, quietly as he ran his fingers across a photo of a woman nursing her child.

“Just these though?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“And the others too,” Harry admitted, “They are all really, really good Louis. It’s not that I didn’t like the others, Louis. It’s just that I didn’t understand them. I still don’t really understand them. I just can’t grasp your fascination with the human body and with...with sex.”

“Have you ever made love?” Louis asked.

Harry’s cheeks flushed scarlet, “I really don’t think that’s an appropriate question to be asking…”

“Then I will take that as a no. Don’t blush about it, love. There’s nothing shameful about one’s virginity,” Louis leaned back slightly on the couch and Harry followed suit. He watched Louis with intentful, curious eyes as Louis continued, “Really. No judgement. The reason that you can’t understand my art is because you’ve never experienced it. And that’s fine, Harry. Everything at everyone’s own pace.”

Harry searched Louis’ features for some sign of judgement or ridicule but there was none. Louis simply continued, “There is a difference between making love and fucking, Harry. They are two completely different concepts. To make love is to be passion and fire and romance and tenderness. To fuck is to be raw, animalistic, and hungry. And sometimes - rarely, but sometimes - you can blend the two. Blur the lines a bit. And that’s what I like. And that’s what I like to capture in my photographs. The beauty of making love in the rawness of fucking! Do you follow what I am saying?”

“Sort of,” Harry’s brow furrowed as he replayed Louis’ words in his head.

“I want you to see what is I do, sweet one. I want to share this with you. Because I don’t want you to think I am just the asshole pornographer who sent you away. I knew so little about you. And you knew so little about me. I am opening myself up here. I hope you will want to do the same. Tell me who Harry Styles really is.”

“Why do you want to know?” Harry nibbled on his lower lip, a flush creeping across his neck.

“Because you fascinate me, Harry Styles.”

And Harry forgot how to speak for a moment because really. Could it be? That Louis was just as fascinated by him as he was with Louis?

“Show me more please,” Harry handed the portfolio back to Louis. He wasn’t sure if he meant the pictures or what exactly. He just knew he needed more. Hungered for it actually. And Louis laughed, taking the binder and placing it back on the coffee table.

“Gonna invite you into my bedroom now. Not for any ulterior motives or something, Harold. I just have more photographs in there. But be warned, they are pretty graphic.”

Harry just nodded and followed behind Louis into his bedroom. Louis’ bedroom was white cinderblock walls and black silk bedding. And photographs. So, so many photographs. All of them wrapping around the four walls in a neat line. All of them in simple black frames. Harry gasped as he realized they were all of various genitalia. Harry felt his cheeks burn and for a moment he wanted to look away. But then he remembered what Louis had said on the couch about love and sex and fucking and art.

“Each one of these photos,” Louis explained, leaning against the doorframe, “is someone I’ve slept with.”

“Oh,” was all he managed to say.

“Like I said,” Louis cleared his throat, “there is a difference between making love and fucking. I’ve been with guys and I’ve been with girls. And I’ve been with people who identify as something completely different entirely. I like to explore what I like and what other people like. Sometimes I prefer to make love to girls. Sometimes I prefer to fuck guys,” Louis smiled self-deprecatingly, “When I fuck, I want someone who can match me bed. Like I said, everyone is different. Sometimes I want someone to tie me down and whip me. Sometimes I like to have someone tied down while I whip them. It varies. And I am versatile. There’s something magic about sex, Harry. It's not something bad or dirty or wrong. It's something beautiful. And I want to capture that and share that. I want people to see it like how I see it.”

“I want to see it how you see it,” Harry’s voice was a shadow of a whisper, “I want to understand.”

“One day you will. When you’re ready. Just…” Louis blushed slightly, a small smile catching on the corner of his lips, “...be careful, Harry. Take your time. Listen to yourself and what you’re into. Discover yourself. All this might not be your taste. Or it might be. Explore and have fun with it.”

Harry nodded, trying not to pay too much attention to the voice in his head begging - explore with me.

“Come on then, love,” Louis nodded towards the hallway, “Let me call you a cab. It’s late.”

That night as he lay in bed, Harry’s own thoughts drowned out Lou Reed’s voice. All he could think of was Louis and what Louis had told him. Maybe sex wasn’t something to fear and shy away from. Maybe - just maybe - it was something beautiful to be embraced and explored and delved into. Maybe it was, just as Louis had said, magic.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry awoke to a text message that read, “Have lunch with me today.” He blinked the glaze of sleep from his eyes and stared at the phone in his hands. He’d almost forgotten he and Louis had exchanged phone numbers the night before, prior to saying their goodbyes and parting their ways. Harry had honestly not expected Louis to text or call. He’d assumed it was all just a pleasantry. But there, in his hands, was his phone with the singular text from Louis Tomlinson that read, “Have lunch with me today.” And Harry knew he should probably decline the offer. Louis made his skin prickle and his insides squirm. But the thought of having to ingest another greasy cheeseburger from the diner made him nauseous. So, lunch with Louis it would be.

“Okay. Where?” Harry texted back, hiding a yawn behind the back of his wrist.

“I’ll pick you up at the diner at noon. We will take a cab together.”

“You really do not have to do that. And that doesn’t answer my question.”

Harry tossed his phone aside and began to get dressed for the day. The diner was pretty lenient about dress as long as you wore the assigned skates and the obnoxious candy striper apron. Harry still wanted to know where Louis was planning on going for lunch. He didn’t want to be dressed inappropriately.

“It’s a surprise, Harold. You get a free lunch at a place of my choosing and in exchange, I get your company.”

Harry rolled his eyes and settled on jeans and a white polo. That looked decent enough, right? As he finished up getting ready, he tried not to be too nervous about his lunch with Louis. He texted Louis and told him the address of the diner. And Louis had replied that he’d seen him at noon sharp. Harry took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on his face after having brushed his teeth. It was just lunch. He could handle just lunch, right?

Right at noon, the door of the diner chimed and Harry glanced up to see Louis stroll inside. He was wearing a black dress shirt and dark blue jeans. And Harry felt the breath hitch in his throat. Why did Louis always have to look so fucking good? It just wasn’t fair. It absolutely was not fair. Clothes just seemed to love him and hug him in all the right spots. And Louis walked as if he knew it too. Harry called to his manager that he was off for his lunch, and hung the apron up on the coat rack.

“Cute,” Louis nodded to the rack.

“Ew,” Harry scrunched up his nose, “It’s a requirement. Candy striper apron and skates. Which I luckily managed to take off just before you got here. So I saved myself the horrible pain of having you see me in skates.”

“Ah, but you spoiled my fun then,” Louis pouted as he and Harry headed out to the sidewalk together. Louis’ cab was waiting and he opened the door for Harry before slipping in on the other side. Harry put on his seatbelt and tried not to wonder what the fuck that meant. Louis always seemed to hold doors open for him. Sure, this was just their third meeting. But it was an occurrence Harry had picked up on.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going for lunch yet, Louis? Or is it still some big mystery?”

“We’re going for pizza,” Louis explained, “At John’s Pizzeria. It’s a lovely place. Used to be an old church once upon a time. Still got the stained glass windows and everything. And they have the best pizza around, Haz.”

Harry just nodded, not really sure how to respond. Around Louis, words just seemed to flee from him. And that only made Harry even more on edge. Louis on the other hand seemed to suave and relaxed. He leaned back a little in the seat and tugged at the cuffs of his dress shirt. Harry gulped as he watched Louis’ nimble fingers fiddle with the fabric. Such long fingers. And the veins in Louis’ hands were like chords on a harp. And Harry always had had a thing for hands. Louis glanced up at him and raised a brow. Of course Harry would be caught staring. Harry inwardly winced at himself for being such an utter embarrassment.

“You um...you have pretty hands,” Harry said, coughing once. Pretty hands? What even was that? Harry mentally kicked himself. He snuck a peek at Louis to see how that word vomit had affected him. Louis just stared back, blinking at Harry for a moment before the corner of his mouth turned upwards in a small smile.

“Thank you, Harry. A kind compliment.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry smacked his forehead with the ball of his palm, “That was dumb. Sometimes I just...I say things. Like, the first thing that pops into my head. I’m sorry.”

“Shh…” Louis rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder. The touch was firm and electric. His voice was once again, crushed velvet as he spoke, “Harry, stop. It’s okay. I think it’s sweet, really. And honest. And honesty is a good quality to have. Impulse control is good too, love. But it was a sweet compliment. And I rather much liked it. So don’t fret into a tizzy over it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Louis squeezed his shoulder a little harder, but the smile on his face was all softness, “It’s fine. More than fine. You can compliment me, Harry. But if that’s the case, then I get to compliment you as well. And let me just say this, you have the most beautiful eyes.”

Harry choked on his own saliva. Surely he hadn’t heard Louis correctly. Who actually just says something like that out loud? Besides himself, apparently?

“They’re just green,” Harry shrugged, but he could feel the rosebuds staining his cheeks in a stinging blush, “Nothing special.”

“You’re wrong. They’re very special. They aren’t just green, Harry. They’re...the color of dewdrops on the grass of a meadow. That’s what they are. And they’re stunning and someone could find themselves getting lost in those eyes.”

Harry coughed again. It suddenly felt extremely hot in the back of the taxicab and Harry bit down on his bottom lip, wondering if Louis Tomlinson was real.

“That’s um...I’ve never been told something like that before.”

“You’re quite stunning. You should be told that often. More than often. Every day, multiple times a day.”

“Christ,” Harry muttered.

“Something the matter?” Louis raised a perplexed eyebrow.

Harry felt as though he was underwater, “It’s just...no one’s ever talked to me like that before. It’s a bit...unnerving.”

“I never said I was a nerving type of person, Harry. I can be just as honest and blunt as yourself, maybe even more so. Quite a pair we make, hmm? Tell me about yourself, Harry. We still have another five minutes to go before we get to John’s and I want to hear more about what makes you tick. Who is Harry Styles, the sweet boy with eyes of emeralds, hmm?”

Harry took a deep and tried to gather his thoughts and control his breathing before answering, “I’m just Harry, really. I’m from Cheshire, England. And I moved to New York a few weeks ago. Just trying to get settled in here, really. It’s a bit difficult though. You are really the first person I’ve met. I mean, I’ve met people, obviously. But you’re like my first...friend? Can I say that? Are we friends? I mean…”

“We’re friends,” Louis answered with a firm nod, “What made you move here, Harry?”

“Um…” Harry picked at a hangnail on his finger when Louis placed a firm hand over Harry’s, pausing the nervous tick, “My father passed away. And I just decided I needed to get away from there. I cared for him up until his final days. And it was just hard on me to still be in that place. I needed to get away and sort of start a new chapter in my life. I’ve always wanted to come to New York. So I just took the chance.”

“I’m glad you did. And I am sorry to hear about your dad. Were the two of you very close?”

“Off and on,” Harry shrugged, “I mean, when I was a teenager not really.”

“When? Harold you look as though you are fifteen still!”

“I am not a teenager,” Harry rolled his eyes, “I am twenty-one.”

“Barely not a teenager,” Louis rolled his eyes, a playful twinkle glistening in them, “But continue.”

“Well as a teenager, we tended to fight a lot. We just didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. I was...different. He didn’t really know what to do with a kid like me. He was the type to go fishing and camping and I’m just not. I’d rather stay indoors with my scented candles and indoor plumbing thank you very much,” that got a laugh out of Louis, and Harry smiled feeling successful at that, “I uh...I came out to him when I was seventeen. And he was supportive. I guess it brought us closer. I didn’t really know my mom. She’s passed away when I was very little. It was always the two of us. But when I came out...it seemed to strengthen my relationship with him.”

“I’m happy for you. Not a lot of kids have that. I know I sure didn’t. But that’s good for you. I’m glad you had him and that he was supportive.”

“Thank you. We bonded over similar tastes in things. We found out we have the same tastes in music and in books. I love The Velvet Underground and Oscar Wilde and he does too! Well...did,” Harry frowned, “Still not used to having to use past tense.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis squeezed Harry’s hand gently, “We’re here. Sit tight. I’ll get your door for you.”

Louis paid for the cab and came around to open Harry’s door. And Harry mumbled a thank you and followed Louis into the restaurant. They were seated in a small table for two next to the window.

“Order whatever you’d like, sweetheart,” Louis nudged Harry’s shoe with the toe of his own, “Really. I want to treat you. But I do suggest we split a pizza. Because they’re huge! Probably even bigger than that enormous head of yours!”

“Hey!” Harry kicked at his shin lightly, “My head is not that big.”

“Sure it’s not, love,” Louis grinned back, teasingly, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Harry kicked him again and Louis laughed, his eyes crinkling slightly and sparkling like diamonds. And Harry quickly realized that Louis’ laughter was well on it’s way to becoming his favorite sound in the entire world. Louis was simply radiant when he laughed. He’d tilt his head back slightly. His eyes would sparkle and crease. And Harry could watch Louis laugh - could make Louis laugh - all day.

They settled on sharing a margarita pizza and Louis ordered them two glasses of white wine. Harry blushed slightly at the fact Louis’d remembered his drink order from the previous night. Not that it was a difficult thing to remember. Just that Louis had was something that made Harry’s stomach feel soft and warm inside of him. Louis was having that effect on him more and more.

“So, Louis,” Harry said, taking a sip of his wine, “Tell me about yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t know if there’s much to tell,” Louis chuckled, taking a sip of his own.

“Please?” Harry caught his gaze. And Louis sighed a little before nodding and saying -

“Okay. Well, I’m a photographer, as you know. And I guess I got into that really as a teenager. I loved taking pictures and documenting things. Lottie and I grew up outside of Manhattan. Small town. I used to take pictures of everything there. Testing out different angles and seeing how light affected different things. I love playing with shadows. I think those are the most fun. There’s something teasing about shadows, isn’t there, Harry?”

“I...I guess so.”

“There is. Something hidden. Secretive almost. Anyway, I came out to my parents when I was seventeen too. But my dad didn’t take it quite so well as yours did. In fact, he told me to leave and never come back. Strict Catholics, my parents. Being gay to them is an abomination. _I_ am an abomination. So I packed up what little I had and came here. Worked two jobs. Took some photography classes at the night school. Saved up for some better equipment and eventually started taking pictures for a living. Now I have my own studio. And I’ve had gallery showings of my work. Sold a photo once for three grand, Harry. Three grand! I still can’t believe that.”

“Whoa,” Harry blinked in shock.

“My commissioned work goes for a lot. But then sometimes there’s a buyer who will bid up at auctions to prices even I can’t imagine. Though most of my work is commissioned pieces. Though...I am looking to branch out more a bit. I want to find a model that will be willing to work with me. Willing to let me call all the shots. I have this vision for a gallery showing...and the pieces I want to include are very...unique. More exploring into the world of pain and love and sex and violence. And I really want a model who will be willing to explore with me.”

The pizza was brought out, and Louis hadn’t been lying when he said it was huge. Louis cut a slice and placed it on Harry’s plate before cutting one for himself.

“I don’t know though. I’ve tried to find a model. I just need one good model who I can work with and who can inspire me almost. I want a muse, Harry. And muses are hard to come by these days. Most of the people willing to do what I’m looking for, they don’t feel it the way I do. They see it as a job. A paycheck. Like any other sexual thing anyone asks them to do. Their eyes look dead inside. I need someone who’s electric. Who knows what I want and who will give it to me. Who can read me and I can read them. I need my muse, Harry. And I don’t know if I’ll ever find him.”

“Him?” Harry asked, nibbling on his slice of pizza. Louis’ words were a tangle of vines in Harry’s head, but he clung to them. Wanting to know more, more, more!

“Oh yes, him. It’s just difficult. Because what I am envisioning in my head...not many people would do or be okay with doing. And I need to find that one person who is fine with it, and not because they have to be. I need to find someone who feels as strongly about it as I do. Someone who gets my vision. Someone who understands that this isn’t about something dirty or lustful. That’s it about beauty. And ugh!” Louis threw up his hands, “I don’t think that person exists!”

“You don’t know that,” Harry took another sip of his wine, “Maybe you just haven’t met him yet.”

“My muse,” Louis sighed tiredly, “If he’s even out there.”

“He is. Tell me more about this project, Louis. Tell me everything.”

“It’s like the pictures you saw last night...only more. I want to document the bond between a dom and his sub. I want to document what the sub undergoes. A lot of people look at BDSM and think that it’s all about power. And that’s not always so. For me, it’s about love and trust ultimately.”

“I know nothing of that world,” Harry said truthfully, “But I...I want to know more. I want to understand it, Louis. I really do. Will you explain it to me?”

Louis smiled softly, “I will. But not here. Lunch is not the place for this kind of conversation. Come back with me to the studio after this. Call into work. Surely you can take one day off. Come back with me and I’ll tell you more.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, pulling his cellphone from his pocket, “Let me just text my boss, Grace. She’ll be fine with it. There’s always a lull after lunch and I wouldn’t be needed.”

“Great,” Louis’ smile broadened, “Harry, I’m glad you came to lunch with me today.”

“Me too, Louis.”

Back at Louis’ studio, Louis brought Harry back behind the wooden door. Harry’s jaw fell open at the things he saw. It looked more like a dungeon than a photography studio save for the lighting and curtains and other equipment. There was an overstuffed leather couch at one end, and Louis motioned for Harry to come sit with him. Louis toed off his dress shoes and tucked his legs up underneath him as Harry sank down next to him.

“Keep in mind, Harry, that everything is different for everyone. But this is how it is for me, and these are my philosophies on things. I am no expert. But this is just how I feel. For me, BDSM is something so beautiful. The bond between a dom and his sub is something so beautiful as well. Something nothing else can compare to. It takes a lot of love and mutual respect. A lot of people look at BDSM as if it’s about one person controlling the other. And that’s not the case. For me, I am a dom. I love being a dom. And I take that role very, very seriously. I’ve been a sub in the past. And it wasn’t for me. And the dom I had...let’s just say he wasn’t a good person. Some people just aren’t. Some people get into BDSM as a means to be aggressive and bully others. Sometimes to abuse others under the guise of it being BDSM. And that isn’t okay. There is a vast difference between what is abuse and what is consensual pain play. You follow?”

“Um...I think so.”

“As a dom, it is my job and duty to make sure my sub feels safe and loved throughout everything no matter what. It’s important for a dom and sub to have open communication and discuss limits and boundaries and what’s okay to push and what isn’t okay at all. You have to trust each other and that is a huge thing. A beautiful thing. That trust. It’s so beautiful, Harry. I never do anything a sub doesn’t first tell me is okay. And I always, always use the color system and we go over the safe word a ton before entering into any scene.”

“A scene?”

“Some people practice BDSM as a lifestyle. I don’t do that. It’s something that a sub and I will participate in when we both want to and are in the mood to. There’s steps to take before entering a scene and after finishing one. Steps I take very, very seriously. Do you want an example?”

“Please.”

“Okay. Well. Let’s say I have a sub and we discuss whipping,” Louis paused to gauge Harry’s reaction and Harry felt something tight in his stomach, but nodded for Louis to continue, “I will sit down with my sub and we’ll talk about it a lot beforehand. And I will make sure to go over the safeword before beginning. And when we start, I will start slow and work up. I’ll ask my sub to give me a color - red for stop, yellow for I need to pause, and green for I’m all for this. And afterwards, once we finish, aftercare is also a huge, huge deal. You can’t skip that. And it’s one of my favorite. I will cuddle my sub and kiss them and hold them until they come back to me, and even after.”

“Come back?”

Louis nodded before answering, “Mmhmm. Pain is a beautiful thing, Harry. There’s something that happens when you feel pain. At first, your mind can only focus on the pain. On how much it hurts. And then there’s like this moment where suddenly that fades away. And you still feel the pain, but it becomes bearable. And your mind just goes white. And blank. And it’s beautiful. It’s a moment of complete clarity. People meditate for the same results, Harry. And it’s like you’ve reached this other plain of existence. And after a scene, the subs have to be brought out of that. The dom has to make sure you’re feet are both on the ground again, so to speak.”

“So basically,” Harry played with a thread at the hem of his polo, his brain trying to catch up to Louis’ words, “it’s like a slope. And at first it starts out being really hard, and you work through the pain and then you get to the top and it’s like your mind just goes white. And you still feel the pain, but it’s not a bad sensation. But a good one. And you just sort of...let go.”

“Exactly.”

“Wow,” Harry blinked, trying to register everything - take it all in. “I-I think I get that. And being able to go blank like that, it’s a peaceful thing. A beautiful thing. A beautiful space your mind goes into. And then...then after you do your scene, you hold your sub? And just are tender with them and gentle?”

“Mmhmm. Lots of hugs and kisses,” Louis smiled, playing with one of the buttons on the couch with his fingers.

“What is the relationship like between you and your sub when you aren’t doing a scene?”

“Well, that depends. I’ve only ever been a dom for people I’ve been in a relationship with. I don’t see it as something casual. And I’ve only been a dom for two people. Both those relationships ended on good terms though - ran their course and then their time was up. I make for a very good boyfriend, Harry. Not trying to brag,” Louis giggled slightly, “but it’s true. I am a good boyfriend. And the relationship is pretty much like any other relationship. We go on dates. Cook together. Have movie nights together. We argue sometimes and there’s fights. The only difference is, sometimes before we fuck, they let me fuck them up a bit first. It’s different for each person though. If I were to find another relationship - another sub - we’d talk all about this beforehand. What they were comfortable with and what they aren’t comfortable with. Maybe have certain rules they must comply with or else be punished. Simple things though. There’s some doms that have rule books of rules. And that’s just not me. I am not going to control my sub’s everyday life. They’re their own person. They can make their own decisions and have their own opinions. And I will let them. In the past, my only rules have been not to be straight up disrespectful to me. Like you can fight with me and argue with me, because that’s all part of being in a relationship. And sometimes I’m not always right. But if you’re like extra bratty or straight up disrespectful, I will punish you. Also, if I ask you to do a task, I expect you to do it. Or else I may punish you. Things like that.”

Harry adjusted a little against the cushions of the couch. His head was still spinning. All of this was so new to him, but it also excited him. He felt like there was a spark, a lighter had been flicked on inside his mind. And he wanted to drink all this in. No, not just drink it in. He wanted to immerse himself in it. He was fascinated. Absolutely fascinated. And Harry couldn’t recall a time when something had fascinated him like this. He wanted to know everything he could. He wanted to study it and learn it and understand it more and more. He wanted to be a part of it.

“So,” Louis laughed lightly, “Questions?”

“Um…” Harry bit his bottom lip so hard he could almost taste blood.

“You okay, Harry?” Louis rested a gentle hand on Harry’s knee, “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you or anything. You did say you wanted to know, though.”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” Harry gulped, nodding eagerly. Louis’ brows were knitted together concernedly. And Harry smiled, trying to assure Louis that yes, he was fine, “It’s just a lot to process. I...I am just trying to process it all. It sounds...it sounds wonderful though.”

“Excuse me?” Louis raised a brow.

“It sounds wonderful,” Harry said again, this time more assuredly, “Having that bond with someone. The whole philosophy behind it all. The mutual respect. The love. The tenderness. It’s just as much about the tenderness as it is about the pain, isn’t it? If not more so?”

Louis just nodded, still looking at Harry slightly confused.

“So tell me about your project. Tell me what this project entails, exactly?”

“Well...like I said, it’d document the relationship between a dom and his sub. And um...my problem is finding a model who will also serve as a sub to me. I guess I sort of am asking for a lot. I want a muse, a boyfriend, a partner, and a sub all in one person. Maybe I’m being a little bit picky.”

“No, no!” Harry objected, “Not picky! You know what you envision for this. Don’t let anything deter that.”

“I just want this project to work out. But I need my...my partner for that. I need this guy. And he needs to be perfect for me. Maybe I just have my sights set too high. But I know what I’m looking for. And I’ll know who he is when I see him, Harry.”

“What will you ask him to do when he sits for you?”

“I would want to photograph him after scenes. I’d want to wreck him up a bit. I want to photograph his bloody back. His bruises. His lash marks. I want to photograph them as something beautiful. Bruises like galaxies. Lash marks like red lace. I want to show people the beautiful side of this. The tenderness and the love. I want them to see that it’s not just what’s portrayed in pornos or something. I want them to see and to understand that BDSM is something so fucking beautiful. I want to photograph my model - my muse - completely wrecked. I want to photograph him in his subspace. I want to photograph him during a scene and after. I want to photograph him right at the height of his pleasure. I want to photograph him in a casual setting. Like...sipping tea and reading the paper. Or waking up in the morning with sleep glazing his eyes and a lazy smile on his face. I want to document...I want to document the relationship. The love. And I can’t just have any old model. I tried that. I interviewed people. And it wasn’t right. The only way for it to be fully right is…”

“...is for you to be fully in a relationship with this person.”

“Exactly.”

Harry stood up from the couch and walked over to the table where some of the things were laid out. It was funny seeing fake flowers and wreaths next to whips and clamps. Harry ran his hand across the handle of a whip. Something electric sparked in him. He could feel the massive butterflies in his stomach flapping like crazy. He could hear the blood pulsing in his ears. He could feel the blood swimming in his veins. He could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, vibrating and willing him to spit them outloud already. Finally, Harry turned back to Louis and said -

“I would do it.”

“Excuse me?”

“I would do it. I would that for you, Lou. I would...I would be your model. Your sub. Your muse. Your...whatever you would need me to be. I’d be.”

“Harry,” Louis rolled his eyes, motioning for Harry to come back over to the couch, “You...you just met me.”

“So? You were interviewing strangers, were you not?”

“I was, but...Harry. Look. You just are curious because I’ve just gotten through explaining all this to you. Which may have been a mistake. You are so inexperienced in this world. You didn’t even know any of this before ten minutes ago, love. No. Absolutely not.”

“But…”

“Harry, don’t argue with me on this matter, okay?” Louis asked firmly and Harry could only just nod as Louis continued, “I never have talked about this to anyone who wasn’t involved in BDSM before. Maybe that was a mistake. You’re curious now. You want to know what it’s like. And that’s fine and good. And I want you to explore it. But I don’t want you to...I just can’t...you can’t be what I’m needing right now.”

“Who says?”

“Excuse me?” Louis looked taken back, “I say. I told you, Harry. I would know my muse once I saw him. And while you’re quite sweet and quite lovely, you just aren’t right. You’re too young, love. Too inexperienced. I-I’ve never been someone’s first dom. And I won’t be yours. You don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“Yes I do,” Harry said firmly, “You just explained it to me. I know what I’m asking, Louis. I’m asking to be whatever you need me to be.”

“Harry, no,” Louis stood from the couch and moved to the wooden sliding door, “Enough of this conversation now. You still have the afternoon off from work, and I have no appointments today. I say we go do something fun. You been to Central Park yet, Harold?”

“Louis…”

“Central Park will be lovely today. It’s a little chilly, but the sun is shining. We’ll go ride the carousel in Central Park and I’ll take you to see the Alice in Wonderland statue. How’s that sound?” Louis nodded for Harry to come to the door. Harry sighed and stood from the overstuffed couch. Louis had made it very clear that the previous conversation had come to a close.

Harry tried to sound cheery as he met Louis by the door, “Sounds great, Lou.”

“Wonderful. Come on. We shall spend the day together! The day is ours, Harry. The word awaits!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Long chapter! I hope you guys liked this one. I am not expert on BDSM, keep that in mind, please. And don't worry, Louis will realize Harry really is his muse quite soon! Again, I hope you're enjoying this. Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos make my day, by the way :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are moving a little fast for the sake of the story, and well Harry and Louis moved kind of fast in real life, didn't they? Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Things will definitely pick up in the next chapter as well. Thank you all for reading. It means so much to me! Like I said, this story isn't like anything I've ever done before. And I'm just really having so much fun with this story. I feel like it's one I was definitely meant to write. And I am so glad I can share it with you all. So thank you!

“Cotton candy!” Harry’s eyes widened as he saw the cart perched on one side of the walking trails of the park. Bags of blue and pink cloudy floss dangled from hooks. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had cotton candy. But he remembered loving it as a child. And for some reason, a memory of going to a circus with his father just a few months after losing his mother crept into his mind. He recalled sitting next to his father, watching the clowns dancing in the ring while letting the candy floss dissolve against his tongue.

“Would you like some, Harry?” Louis asked, placing a firm hand on the small of Harry’s back, “I’ll buy you some.”

“You don’t have to always buy me things,” Harry sighed, “Ever since last night at the bar, you buy me things.”

“I like buying you things.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you blush and look all shy but your eyes get all sparkly. You’re fun to spoil, sweet one. Go ahead, pick out which one you want - pink or blue - and we’ll split a bag together. How’s that sound?”

“You’re too good to me,” Harry said as they sat down on a park bench, bag of blue cotton candy between them, “I’ve only just met you and I just...I feel close to you. You’re kind to me, but I’m not sure why. You don’t have to be. You have no reason to be. We’ve only just met and you...you are wonderful to me.”

Louis smiled and pulled out a chunk of cotton candy, placing it on his tongue and letting it dissolve as he mulled over Harry’s words, “I like you, Harry. You’re sweet. And you have this sort of wide-eyed excitement about things. I love that. I don’t know. I guess I’m just drawn to you is all. You have this way of lighting up spaces. Making things bright. Happier. I’m happier when I’m spending time with you. Is that weird?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. But I feel the same about you. I have fun with you, Louis. I like hearing your thoughts on things. Your mind is a beautiful place. Really. And I like getting little glimpses of that. It’s like...a doorway that opens up for me to peek through to the other side sometimes. And I really, really like getting to peek through to the other side.”

Louis laughed, “Open,” he instructed. Harry opened his mouth and Louis set a piece of the fluffy candy onto Harry’s tongue, “Your tongue is turning blue, love. I’m going to call you my little smurf.”

“You’re tongue is blue too!” Harry insisted, “And you’re smaller than me. So maybe it should be me calling you my little smurf.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Louis laughed again, and Harry beamed. He swore he could get drunk off the sounds of Louis’ laughter, “I’m not all that small. You’re just a...a sasquatch.”

“A sasquatch!” Harry cried, feigning offense, “Take that back!”

“Why should I?” Louis eyes were sparkling with myrrh, “You’re an adorable baby sasquatch. All tall and gangly and awkward and precious and you still have yet to grow into your legs, sweet one.”

Harry gasped and swatted Louis on the arm. Louis gasped and swatted Harry back. And they went back and forth swatting at each other for a few minutes before swatting turned into tickling and they were a giggling mess on their park bench, the cotton candy long forgotten.

“Alright, alright! Mercy!” Louis held up a hand, squirming away from Harry.

Harry stopped tickling him and pouted slightly. Louis rolled his eyes, “Go stand over there by the pond. I want to get a picture of you. Go, go!” Louis shoed him over to the pond and Harry sighed and trudged over to where Louis told him to stand. Louis pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up one of his several camera apps.

“What should I do?” Harry called to him, “Do you want me to just stand here, or what?”

“Just stand there and smile at me, babe. You can manage that. Just...do you.”

Harry rolled his eyes, shook out his arms a bit and stood with his back facing the pond. The sun was cast in his eyes, so he lifted a hand to visor it from his line of sight. Squinting slightly, he smiled at Louis. Louis was grinning as he held his phone up to snap the picture. After a moment, Louis called out to him -

“Got it!”

Harry scurried back to Louis’ side to see what it looked like. It was a shadowy, grainy picture. But his smile was bright and he looked genuinely happy. And he was glad that Louis could capture that moment in the photo - the moment of just bliss. Carefree bliss. Suddenly, Harry grabbed the phone from Louis’ hands and grabbed Louis’ wrist with his other. He yanked him over to the pond and said -

“We need a picture together! You’re always behind the camera. Get in this shot with me!”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Alright, alright. Fine,” he draped his arm over Harry’s shoulders and they pushed their heads together so that they’d both be centered in the frame. Harry snapped the picture. They were both smiling, creases next to their eyes. It looked as if they’d been captured giggling. And Harry smiled down at the phone in his hand. They looked so happy. So genuinely happy. And they looked as though they just fit together - two pieces of a puzzle. And Harry wondered how that could possibly be when he’d only just met Louis. In the photograph, they could easily be mistaken for having known each other for years.

“I like that one,” Louis said as Harry handed his phone back to him, “I like that one a lot. Wow. The camera loves you, babe,” he flicked his finger so that the screen went back and forth between the two photos, “You just have this spirit...I try to always capture the soul of things in my photographs. But it’s not always easy. With you, you can just see your soul radiating in these pictures. If I didn’t know you, and I saw these pictures of you, I’d be able to tell that you’re a happy, sweet, silly person with a heart of gold. And you are, Harry. You truly are.”

“You should photograph me more then,” Harry said, and the allusion was thick in his voice. Louis knew what Harry was alluding to. And he pocketed his phone, shaking his head.

“Stop it.”

“Lou…”

“Harry, no. I told you I am not having this conversation with you again. You aren’t going to be my muse or my model or my…” the word ‘sub’ fell off from the sentence as if it fell from a cliff, “Just no, Harry. That is my final word on the matter.”

Harry sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Louis started to walk down the trails a little ways and Harry begrudgingly followed. He just knew he could be what Louis was looking for - what Louis needed. He knew he could be everything Louis was asking for. He didn’t doubt if for a second. But how to go about proving that to Louis? Harry frowned and followed along next to Louis. Louis watched some kids play with their toy sail boats in the pond. Harry had other things on his mind though.

Louis needed to see what Harry was capable of. Currently, Louis saw Harry as young and inexperienced and confused. And maybe Harry was inexperienced and young, but he sure wasn’t confused. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to be what Louis needed. He wanted to be everything Louis needed and then some. And he just needed a way to show Louis that he could handle it. That he could more than handle it.

Suddenly a wicked little thought entered his mind. Louis worked off commissions a lot. Harry could make an appointment and commission Louis to do a shoot of him. A nude shoot. And he’d pose in ways he knew would make Louis see him in a different light. See him more than just a little inexperienced kid. Harry’s stomach jolted at the thought. His skin felt as though it were a live wire. But he knew he needed to do this - needed to prove himself to Louis. Louis needed to see what Harry was capable of. And Harry knew deep down that he was capable of a lot. Anything Louis would ask of him, he would do. Could do.

“Um...I need to make a quick call,” Harry dug his phone from his pocket, “So I’ll just um...let me make this call and then I’ll catch up with you.”

“That’s fine, Harry. I’ll be right here.” Louis sat down on a park bench, smiling as some kids played with their boats. And Harry nodded, retreating back a bit to place his phone call. He felt a little guilty going behind Louis’ back like this. But he needed to do this. He needed Louis to see. So when he was out of earshot, Harry placed a call to Louis’ studio.

The new receptionist answered the phone and Harry said that he would like to make an appointment for as soon as possible. She typed away on her computer for a moment, and Harry listened to the sound of the keyboard clacking. He wondered if she could hear the sound of his heartbeat thudding. He felt like a nervous mess, but he knew he needed to do this. He just had to do this. If Louis wasn’t going to give him a shot, Harry would just have to take it.

“He’s free this afternoon,” the receptionist said, “He’s not in at the moment, but I can call him. How does 3pm work for you? That’ll give him time to get back to the studio and set up.”

“That works perfectly,” Harry smiled into the phone, feeling his heart race inside of him.

“Great. Do you need any special props or…”

“No, no,” Harry explained, “I just want a few nude portraits worked up. Very basic. Just me in front of a plain backdrop. No props. Just me.”

“Okay then. We look forward to seeing you at three then, Mr. Styles.”

“Thank you very, very much.” Harry ended the call and pocketed his phone. He wiped his palms off on the thighs of his jeans. He had no idea what he’d just done. In just a couple of hours, he’d be posing nude for Louis Tomlinson. And being nude wasn’t anything new to Harry. He was most comfortable in only his bare skin. But something about being nude in front of Louis, made goosebumps prickle against his flesh like a million little needles.

Why had he done that? Ugh. Maybe Louis had been right. He needed impulse control. Because what had seemed like the perfect plan a second ago, suddenly felt like a huge mistake. But it was too late to turn back now. What was done was done. And in just a couple hours, Harry would be posing for Louis. And hopefully, hopefully Louis would see that Harry could be his muse. Harry needed to be Louis’ muse.

Harry took a deep breath and headed back over to Louis. Louis was on the phone now too, probably with his receptionist. Harry’s breath caught and tangled in his throat as Louis said -

“Who’s the client? Ex...excuse me? Harry...Harry Styles? No,” Louis coughed once, “No. There’s no problem, Grace. I’ll um...I’ll be in as soon as I can get back to the studio. Thank you,” Louis pocketed his phone and glanced up to see Harry coming towards him. His sea glass eyes hardened and turned into angry little slits, “What have you done?” He demanded.

“I-I want you to photograph me. I want a shoot with you.”

“A nude shoot,” Louis clarified, “What are you trying to do, Harry?”

“I know I am what you need Louis. And I am going to prove that to you. If you won’t let me do it, I had to do it this way. I made an appointment. And you’re going to photograph me. And I will pay you your usual price. What’s the big deal?” Harry knew that it was a huge deal, a very huge deal. But Louis looked as though he could just about slap Harry. And Harry realized that maybe he’d made a huge mistake in going behind Louis’ like this. He watched as Louis’ hands formed into fists at his sides.

“I don’t like it when people go behind me like this, Harry,” Louis spoke and his voice was tires on gravel, “Not one bit, love,” and his jaw was clenching and Harry’s heart only kicked into overdrive. He’d crossed a line. He knew that. But he needed to prove to Louis what he already felt inside of him - that he was Louis’ muse.

“You could have said no. You could have told your receptionist you refused to take me as your client.”

“Are you really trying to be smart right now?” Louis raised a brow. “You’re unbelievable, Harry. Now come along,” Louis grabbed Harry’s forearm, nails digging into the flesh as he yanked Harry along next to him, “We have to catch a cab and head back to the studio, because apparently I have a three o’clock appointment with a very obstinate little child.”

Harry felt his insides clench. Okay. So he knew Louis wouldn’t necessarily like the idea. But he didn’t expect him to be this angry about it. Harry felt a little sick at the thought of having angered Louis. He didn’t want Louis to be cross with him. And knowing that he was, killed him inside.

“I’m sorry!” Harry said once they were in the backseat of a taxi, “I really am. I just...I want to show you.”

“Show me what?” Louis asked, not even glancing at Harry. He hadn’t looked at Harry in a good few minutes and it was driving Harry crazy.

“That I am your muse. You won’t let yourself see it. So I am going to make you.”

“No one _makes_ me do anything, Harry,” Louis said, and his voice was like ice being dumped over Harry’s head. And Harry folded his hands in his lap, trying to process his thoughts.

“I’m sorry I went behind you, Lou. I am. But I know I can be what you need. And I am determined to show that to you. You think of me as just this little child but I’m not...I’m really not!”

“You are most certainly a child,” Louis scoffed, tugging at the cuffs of his dress shirt, “You are an insolent little child who, when he doesn’t get his way, finds a way to weasel into getting his way. You are nothing more than an insolent little child! If you want to be my muse - if you want to be all that I am looking for - acting like a brat and going behind my back like you did certainly was not the way to do that. If anything, I see you as less now than I did before.”

And Harry felt his blood pounding violently in his veins, “Louis…” the blood in his head felt like molten lead.

“I don’t want to hear your voice, Harry. Not right now. Don’t speak. I’m done with you. We’ll go to the studio. And you are to wait on the couch in the lobby for me. When I have the lights and everything set up, then you are permitted to talk to me. But right now, you don’t get to do that now. You backed me into a corner, Harry. No one ever backs me into a corner. You want me to see you as someone I can have a mutual trust and respect with? And yet you do something like this to me? You disappoint me.”

“I want to show you! I know I can be all that you need, Louis. I know it. You talk about the bonds and the relationship and how strong it is. Well I feel those things when I’m around you. We get each other. There’s something there. And even though I just met you I feel it. And I want you to allow yourself to feel it too!”

“Are you still talking?” Louis snapped, “Christ!”

“What? What are you going to do about it?” Harry challenged, “You won’t let me be your sub. So technically, there isn’t a single thing you can do about it. I can sit here and I can talk if I want to. I don’t _need_ your permission!”

Louis turned to Harry with fire in his eyes, “You aren’t my sub! You’re right! You know _why_ that is, Harry? Because you’re young. And you’ve never been dommed before. And I don’t want to do anything that’ll mess you up. My first dom was shit. And it fucked me up for a long, long time. And I don’t want to do that to you. I won’t do that to you. It’s different with you, Harry. It’s so different with you. You want to make me see? See what? See what I saw the first time you came into my fucking studio? I knew from the moment I saw you I wanted you. I knew from the moment I saw you that there was something so special about you. And I felt drawn to you. I felt like I’d just seen my muse standing there before me. But you’re so fucking young, Harry! And I can’t! I can’t and I _won’t!_ And do you know how hard that is for me? To look at you and want you so badly that it physically hurts? Because that’s where I’m at when it comes to you. I spoil you and lavish you because it’s all I can allow myself to do. I want to fucking wreck your pretty little face. And I can’t bring myself to do that because Harry you’re only twenty-one. I’m six years older than you! I am more experienced than you! And what if...what if I do something wrong?”

Harry’s breath felt as though it had been knocked from him. He felt suddenly very hot and very much exposed. Louis wanted him? Louis wanted him as his sub and his muse? But was too scared of hurting him? Was too scared of doing something wrong? So he was holding back? Could it be? Could it be that everything Harry felt, Louis was feeling too? Harry felt his head spin. The taxi driver was glaring at them in the rear view mirror, but Harry really didn’t care. All he cared about was what Louis had just said.

“What...I don’t understand…”

Louis sighed as if Harry was just frustrating him more, “When you came into my studio for the receptionist job, I turned you away. Because you looked so young and innocent and I didn’t want to expose you to this world. But when I first laid eyes on you...it was like this electricity. And I...I wanted you so badly. So I was cold and I turned you away. And then I saw you at Lottie’s bar and we talked and I got to know you. And I got to see this light flash in your eyes when we talked about all this stuff. And I saw how badly you wanted this. And I know how badly I want it. And it scared me. So I refused you, Harry. I-I knew when I first saw you that you were the perfect person I was holding out for. The vision I had in my mind all these years was you!”

The cab pulled in front of the studio and Louis paid the driver. He came around and opened Harry’s door for him just as he always did. Harry kicked at a piece of crumbling pavement, “So where does this leave us?” He asked.

“Well. We’re going to go into the studio. You are going to sit on the couch and wait until I call you back. You’re going to tell me what you vision for the photo shoot. And I’ll shoot you. And then you’ll leave and that’ll be that.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Not enough. That’s not enough and you know it.”

“Harry…”

“Don’t shove me away from you, Louis. Don’t be scared of hurting me. I _want_ you to hurt me. I _trust_ you to hurt me. I want to feel everything you give me. I want it so badly. And I trust you. You aren’t going to break me or anything. I don’t know what your first dom did to you, but you aren’t him. And I trust you.”

“You’ve only just met me.”

“So?” Harry asked defensively, “We both feel this thing between us, Louis. Stop trying to suppress it and just go with it. Let it consume you and take over. Listen to it and trust it. You and I are made for each other. I will be your muse and your sub and your whatever you need me to be. I will prove to you I can be.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Louis punched the button on the elevator lift.

“You can’t just do that,” Harry insisted, “You were the one that said it’s all about mutual respect. But you can’t just dismiss me like that. That’s not being respectful, Louis. That’s being dismissive. I have something of value to say and I’m going to say it and you’re going to listen.”

“God, you’d make for a shit sub anyway,” Louis frowned, punching the button again impatiently, “Can’t take orders to save your life. Always arguing back.” Harry would be hurt if he thought Louis actually meant those words. But he said them so half-heartedly that Harry knew he wasn’t serious. At least not entirely.

“That may be so,” Harry shrugged, leaning against the metal cage of the lift, “I may be a shit sub. I may talk back. I may argue on occasion. I know for a _fact_ I will call you out on your shit, Louis Tomlinson. So maybe I’m not cut out for being your sub. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I want you to give me a chance. I do know that whatever you tell me to do, I want to do it and do it perfectly for you. I know that I feel this thing between us and that I want to give myself fully to you - mind and body. That’s what I know. So you can either take that or leave it.”

The lift opened and Loui stormed off with Harry trailing behind. The receptionist, Grace, glanced up startled from her computer. The tension in the room was a heavy fog.

“You are going to sit your ass down on that couch while I get my equipment in order,” Louis commanded, pressing a cold finger against Harry’s chest, “And I’m going to call you back and we’re going to get this over with. Now sit!”

Harry swallowed visibly and decided it may just be best to actually do as Louis says. So he sat down on the black leather couch. Louis sighed and turned on his heel, heading behind the wooden door. Harry heard it slam shut and jolted at the sound. Well things definitely had taken an interesting turn. His head was spinning with Louis’ words on repeat as if they were a broken record. Harry had no idea what any of this meant, or where he stood with Louis Tomlinson. But at least things were out in the open, right? At least they had finally been honest with each other.

He wondered how it could be that he felt so much for someone he’d only just met. Was it even possible? Harry had no idea. But he knew he trusted Louis. Wanted Louis. And that’s all he could think about.

Eventually, the wooden doors opened back up and Louis said, “I’m ready for you.”

Harry took a deep breath and pushed himself up from the couch. He made his way through the doors, and Louis slammed them shut behind him.

“You’re the client,” Louis said, his voice flat and clipped, “Tell me what you’re wanting.”

“I want a nude photo shoot. Just me. A simple backdrop. And you and your camera. That’s all.”

“Easy enough. You can strip out of your clothes behind that curtain if you’d like.”

Louis stood behind his massive tripod, fiddling with his camera as Harry ducked behind the curtain. He wondered what the point of the curtain was if he was just going to be naked anyway in front of Louis in a few moments. Harry slowly peeled off his white polo and shimmied out of his jeans. He toed off his socks and stared at himself in the full-length mirror. It was now or never. There was no turning back now. He took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the curtain.

“I’m ready.”

“Very well,” Louis sighed, still not glancing up from behind his camera, “Stand in front of the backdrop and pose however you wish.”

Harry nodded. He came around in front of Louis and he saw Louis’ eyes flick upwards as he passed. He saw the bulge of Louis’ throat as he swallowed hard. And Harry was now standing completely naked in front of Louis Tomlinson. And for some reason, all the nerves vanished. It felt natural. Safe. He felt right. Louis swallowed again, glancing back at his camera and keeping his eyes on the camera. He didn’t glance up at Harry again. And Harry took a deep breath. The cool air was sharp and stinging against his bare skin. And he felt himself growing semi-hard at the thought of standing here in front of Louis so vulnerable like this.

And then he did it. In one swift motion, Harry fell to his knees in front of the camera. “Like this,” he instructed. And Louis glanced up from the flash and took a deep, shaky breath when he saw Harry naked on his knees before him.

“Very well then,” Louis said, “You ready?”

“Ready,” Harry nodded assuredly.

He took another deep breath before clasping his hands in front of him, bowing his head down. He looked as though he could be in prayer. And the camera flashed once, twice, three times. And Harry could hear Louis’ breathing. Everything was silence save for the flash and Louis’ breath. And when Louis went to adjust the angle, Harry peered up through his fringe and saw Louis’ hands - those beautiful, strong hands with veins like harp’s cords - shaking.

“Everything okay?” Harry asked as Louis switched out the flash.

“Yes, darling,” Louis replied and Harry could tell he was taking great strains to make his voice sound smooth, but Harry clearly could hear the shakiness to it. The nervousness to it, “Everything is fine. You’re doing beautifully! Would you like to change the pose?”

“Um…” Harry thought it over a moment before nodded, “How about the same pose, but from the back. With my hands clasped behind my back.”

“Christ,” Louis hissed, turning a shade of pink, “Okay. Okay if that’s what you want, love. Let’s try from that angle then.”

Harry adjusted and could hear Louis’ sharp intake of breath. He was sure this was having just as much an effect as Louis - if not more - than it had on himself. Harry tried so hard to keep his voice level. His knees were starting to ache slightly on the cold, hard floor. But he pushed through the discomfort, the pain. He kept his pose as Louis titled the camera at different angles.

“I-I think that’s good,” Harry said after another ten minutes of flashes and poses, “I think I got just what I needed.”

“Good, good,” Louis nodded and Harry peered up at Louis through the curtain of fringe and lashes.

“May I get up now?” He asked, his voice dripping syrupy innocence.

“You may, darling,” Louis nodded and Harry pushed himself up off the cold floor. He stood to head back behind the curtain. He paused though, and said -

“We work well together, Louis. Give me direction and I’ll follow.”

“You really want to do this, don’t you?” Louis asked, turning away from the camera to face Harry, “I-I am asking for a lot, Harry. For my project, the person I need needs to be my muse and my sub and my partner. I need someone to give himself fully to me. Someone who I can give myself fully to. That’s the only way I’ll be able to capture what I need for this project. And you’re willing to do that for me?”

Harry nodded, “I know you’re asking for a lot, Louis. But I have a lot to give. And I’ll truly give you everything I have.”

“The model will have to be someone who I am in a relationship with. A real relationship with. Not just by dom/sub standards. He’ll have to be my boyfriend. My partner. My lover. I just met you, Harry. I only just met you…”

“I know,” Harry sighed nodding along to what Louis had just said, “I know it’s crazy. Things aren’t suppose to happen so fast, but this did. And I can’t explain it, Louis. But I just know deep inside of me that this is what I want. I want to be yours. Don’t you want to be mine?”

Louis ran a hand through his quiff, mussing it slightly. He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Harry’s as he answered, “Happily.”

Harry beamed as he scurried over to Louis’ side to press a kiss to his cheek. Louis was laughing as he pulled back slightly -

“Okay, baby. Okay. But we have a lot to discuss, I think. I’m not going to just jump into this. We’re going to be careful with this and take things slowly, okay. Now, put some clothes on will you! You animal!” Louis giggled, swatting at Harry as Harry giggled and scurried back behind the curtain.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today! Whew! *Wipes brow!* Thank you so, so much for reading this. It truly means so much to me. Like I've said, I've never written anything like this before. And I am no expert. But I just really think BDSM is such a beautiful thing and the relationship between a dom and sub is something so unique and beautiful as well. And I am having so much fun writing this. I don't know if fun is the right word. But I am truly enjoying working on this story. And I am so glad you all are enjoying reading it.
> 
> In this chapter, Louis does spank Harry. And before that, they go over the rules and everything. It's The Big Talk chapter. Where they discuss things. And I think this is such an important chapter and I hope I portrayed things correctly.
> 
> Any way, thank you again for reading and for commenting. Your comments honestly make my whole day!

“This is pathetic, Lou,” Harry rolled his eyes, peering into the fridge. All Louis had in stock was a squeeze bottle of mustard, some ketchup packets from a fast food place, milk, and a pizza box with grease marks on the top. Harry winced. When he’d bragged to Louis about being able to whip up anything from anything, he hadn’t expected this. He shut the fridge and turned a hopeful gaze to the pantry. Easy Mac and Cocoa Puffs. Wonderful.

“Are you eleven?” Harry asked, shaking a box of Easy Mac in the air.

“Hey! You were the one who insisted on cooking for me. I can’t help it that I don’t cook. I do so for my own safety, you know. If I attempted to actually cook a real meal, I’d probably burn down this flat and risk my life, and everyone else’s who live here. So no. I do not even attempt to cook.”

“Then how do you eat?” Harry shut the pantry, leaning against the door and looking at Louis with a baffled look on his face, “Surely you don’t live off of cereal and Easy Mac and ketchup, Lou.”

“Of course not, darling. I order takeout mostly. Which I guess is what we’re going to have to do tonight.”

“Tomorrow, I’m bringing over some groceries,” Harry said determinedly.

“You don’t have to do that,” Louis was sorting through a drawer of take out menus, “Really, Haz. They wouldn’t go to use.”

“Of course they will. I’m planning to cook for you, Louis. Often. And to do that, I’m going to need a fully stocked kitchen. That includes starches, veggies, carbs, proteins, natural sugars…”

“God,” Louis winced, laughing, “Okay. You can Jamie Oliver my kitchen later. Right now though, I am famished. And I did invite you over here for dinner. So let’s pick a place to get something delivered. Then you and I are going to have that serious talk I mentioned back at the studio, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. Truthfully, the serious talk was making him anxious. They were really doing this. And Louis was insistent on doing things correctly. Which Harry appreciated. But still, he was nervous about talking about this stuff out loud.

“It’ll be fine, darling,” Louis squeezed Harry’s shoulder gently as Harry came to stand next to him and sort through the takeout menus, “Really, love. We need to have this talk. It’s important. My first dom didn’t have this talk with me. He made it seem like his word was God and that I just had to comply. And that’s not what this is at all. It’s a partnership, baby. It’s about the two of us working as a team here. And if there’s anything you aren’t comfortable with, you need to voice that. And I will respect that. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe and comfortable and...pleasured. Okay?”

Harry nodded, setting aside a menu for a pizza parlor, “I understand. I’m just not used to...communication, really. The only other guy I’ve ever been with was just very vanilla. We didn’t explore or talk about exploring. It was all just very bland. And sometimes I’d try to talk to him about being a bit rougher - more passionate at the very least. But he wouldn’t.”

“It’s all about being able to talk to each other and understand each other. I’m here to make you feel cared for and safe, even when I’m hurting you. That’s my job, darling. Now then, how does Thai sound? I could go for Thai.”

They placed their order for their food and waited for the delivery by sitting on the couch, curled up against each other, and watching Parks and Rec on Netflix. Harry had to admit it was so, so nice to be curled up next to Louis. It was so nice to have that human contact - something he’d missed so much since the loss of his father and moving out to a new country. He felt relived and safe being next to Louis. And Louis would reach up and run his hand through Harry’s curls. And it felt right. It felt good.

“Lou…” Harry asked gently.

“Yes, baby.”

“Those pictures on your bedroom wall...you weren’t in a relationship when you took those, were you?”

“No, love. I’ve been with a lot of people. I know that. Probably too many really. But I keep myself safe. I’ve always gotten regular checkups and tests done. I’m clean. And no, baby. When I’m in a relationship, you get all of me. And I don’t share myself with anyone else. I take my relationships quite seriously.”

“I’ve only ever been in one relationship.”

“I’ve only ever been in three,” Louis wrapped a curl around his finger, “It’s fine, darling. I’m still learning some things too. We’ll learn together. And every person is unique and different. No relationship is ever the same. So this is all new for the both of us. We have to learn each other.”

The doorbell rang and Louis went to get the food and pay the delivery boy. He came back to the living room with several white styrofoam boxes. He set them on the coffee table and got back into his spot next to Harry. They nibbled on their pad thais and began to talk about things. The talk. The serious talk. Harry felt his stomach churn and knot as Louis began.

“I said before I don’t have a huge book of rules. For me, it’s not about controlling your every move. It’s more about respect. You have to respect me, darling. If I tell you to do something, I need it to be done. No questions, okay? And I’m not one to be called ‘sir’ or ‘master.’ I’m just Louis and you’re just Harry, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, nibbling on a crushed peanut.

“Okay. Basically, just be respectful of me and I’ll be respectful of you. It’s all about mutual respect. You can argue with me though. You are allowed to get mad at me. Partners fight. And I want you to feel like you can call me out on things sometimes. But do so in a mature matter, Harry. What you pulled today was not acceptable. Not one bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, feeling embarrassed again at how he’d acted.

“It is what it is,” Louis sighed, “But just know for next time, that if you ever behave like that again, oh baby! I’m going to make you hurt for weeks. Got it?”

Harry’s cheeks stained red and he nodded shyly.

“Now then, for the actual punishments. What are you okay with, darling? I know whipping might not be the most effective right now. I want to work you up to some things, okay? We can start with just spankings. I think that’d be good for you. What do you think?”

Harry nodded, “Spanking. I’m fine with spanking.”

“Good. As far as spanking goes, if you are disrespectful or don’t listen to an order, I will spank you, Harry. Sometimes I will use it as means of punishment. However, if you do like being spanked, I can just as easily use it as means of pleasure as well.”

“Tell me more about the subspace thing.”

“Okay. Well, let’s say I’m spanking you. I will have a number in my head. Say...twenty-five. If you don’t hit that peak by twenty-five, I’ll stop. But if you do hit that peak, I’ll keep going. Say to thirty-five or forty. Then after we’re done, I’ll bring you back done from that peak. There’ll be lots of kisses and cuddles. There’ll always be kisses and cuddles after a scene, darling. I am big on the kisses and cuddles.”

Harry smiled, something warm stirring inside of him, “I’m big on kisses and cuddles too.”

Louis ran his hand through Harry’s curls again, “We’ll always talk about entering a scene. I tend to call it play. I’ll ask you, ‘do you want to play?’ before we go into anything. And I’ll make sure you tell me your word several times over before we begin. Which reminds me, you’ll need to think up a safeword. Something you’ll always have right there on hand to use when things get to be too much. And never, ever worry about having to use it. I will be so, so proud of you if you use it, Harry. Because it shows me you can be open with me like that. That you can tell me when things are too much for you. I need that communication from you, darling. So no matter what, you can always use your word. Even if you do something that pisses me off and I’m tearing into you. _Especially then_ , even. Say your word and I’ll stop in a fucking heartbeat and end it right then and there.”

Harry nodded, “I think I like the word pineapple.”

“Pineapple it is then,” Louis smiled sweetly, kissing Harry’s knuckles, “I like that word too. How do you feel about kneeling, love?”

“Like in what context?”

“Say you do something bad. Say I make you kneel for me as punishment. How do you feel about that, darling?”

“I-I don’t know. I’m open to it.”

“Okay. So spanking and kneeling. Anything else? What about bondage? Being tied down?”

“I’ve always sort of wanted to try that,” Harry admitted shyly, “I’ve always wanted to play around with that.”

“Excellent, baby. You’re doing very well.”

“What about if I’m bad, Louis. I don’t want to be bad.”

“You won’t _be_ bad, Harry. You could never be bad, my darling. You will do bad things though. You’ll act up and misbehave and I’ll be forced to correct that behavior. But you won’t ever be bad, darling. Never in my eyes. No matter what you do, I’ll always see this perfect boy who’s sitting here with me now.”

“And I can use my safeword if I need to.”

“Of course, baby. Say pineapple and I’ll stop in an instant. If we want to try something new, we’ll work up to it and test it out. Say you get comfortable with the idea of me whipping you. I may use a belt on you for like three hits. Just to see how you feel. You can always use your word and I’ll always ask you for a color…”

“Red, yellow, green.”

“Exactly, darling. Perfect! I’ll never do anything to you we don’t discuss first. My dom...he didn’t ask me. He just did. And I don’t want to be like that, Harry. And I never thought I’d look back on that as a good experience, but maybe it was. Because I know how to be a good dom. Or at least a better one than him. I know how to be careful with you, Harry. I always want to be careful with you. I was a horrible sub. I really was. But he was a horrible dom. And there were times he’d tie me and whip me. And I’d scream out my safeword and he wouldn’t listen. And he’d keep going…”

“Lou!” Harry gasped, he suddenly felt very sick to his stomach at the thought of that.

“I have scars from it today - mental and physical marks, Harry. And I never, ever will do something like that. I will always, _always_ make sure I have your trust. If you ever stop trusting me, that means I’d have failed. And I don’t fail at things, Harry. But you always need to tell me. Tell me when I’ve gone too far if I go too far. I am a very controlled person, Harry. I pride myself in being a responsible and controlled dom. I really do. And I will never hurt you more than you can take.”

“What will our daily life look like then?” Harry asked, “If we’re not doing it as a lifestyle.”

“Well, our daily life will look like any other relationship. I may get you to teach me how to cook without setting a fire. We’ll go on dates. I’ll introduce you to my friends as my partner. And we’ll be proper adorable, darling. We’ll cuddle and kiss and be absolutely infatuated with each other. And when we get home, if we want to play, I’ll completely fuck you up.”

Louis eyes were twinkling and the smile on his face was undeniable. And all this just felt so, so right.

“We’ll give each other a few weeks first to adjust to things before I begin working on the project, darling. Then I’ll begin to take photographs. I do want your face in some of them though, if you’re okay with that. I’ll photograph you after sessions and in moments like this where we’re just cuddled up together. I want the world to see what a beautiful thing a relationship between a dom and sub can be.”

“I want my face in them,” Harry nodded, “I-I want the world to see the beautiful relationship between us.”

“Harry,” Louis let out a small breath, “I don’t understand how things happened so fast. All I know is I laid eyes on you and I felt like I was on fire. I’ve never felt such a strong desire or pull towards another person. I just knew there was something about you. And that I needed you in my life. I felt this stirring in my heart. And it was as if God himself was saying ‘this is your boy.’ And I didn’t even know your name yet.”

“All I know is that I feel safest and happiest when I’m with you, Louis. That’s all I know. That being with you feels right and good. And I’ve never felt like this before. It’s as if we just fit together. Two puzzle pieces.”

“My little puzzle piece,” Louis pulled Harry closer to him, kissing his temple.

“Can we try something tonight?” Harry asked.

“If you want, love.”

“I-I’ve never been spanked before,” Harry fiddled with a thread on the hem of his polo shirt, “Well, I mean as a kid sometimes. But not like this. And I just...I kind of want to know what it’s like. And I was wondering if maybe...maybe you could spank me tonight. Just so I can experience it. Know what to expect.”

“You’re asking me to spank you, darling?” Louis asked, setting his styrofoam box on the coffee table. And Harry blushed and nodded. He desperately wanted Louis to spank him. He needed to know what it felt like. Needed to know what to expect.

“Very well, my love. Bedroom, darling.”

Harry nodded and stood from the couch. He followed Louis into the bedroom. He glanced at the photographs on the walls and suddenly felt very nervous. He had no idea what to expect. Would it hurt terribly? What if he couldn’t handle it? And then that’d be it. And all this would be over? Harry felt his insides knot as Louis sunk down on the foot of the bed.

“I won’t spank you bare-bottom tonight, darling. Over the underwear is just fine. But take off your jeans and fold them. Put them on that chair over there in the corner. And then put yourself over my lap, okay baby?”

Harry nodded shakily and did as Louis instructed. He put his jeans on the chair, folded extra neatly. And slowly walked over to the bed. Louis patted his lap and Harry took a deep breath before going over Louis’ knees. It was an odd feeling. He felt a twinge of fear and a twinge of embarrassment. But he also felt, more so than those things, assured. Louis gently rubbed his palm over Harry’s ass in small circles. And feeling Louis’ hand was a comfort.

“Alright, baby. I’m going to give you fifteen spanks to start out. Think you can handle that tonight?”

“Fifteen,” Harry repeated and nodded, “I can do that.”

“What’s your word, my love?”

“Pineapple.”

“My excellent boy,” Louis kissed the dip of Harry’s back before pulling his hand back, “Alright. I’m going to begin, baby. You use that word if you need to.”

Harry took a deep breath and braced himself. He dug his hands into the comforter on Louis’ bed, clutching it tightly. Louis landed the first blow to his right asscheek. It stung incredibly. And Harry couldn’t even help but cry out. It was unexpected and sharp. The second blow landed on the same spot. Even more intense than the first time. Harry cried out again a second time.

“You okay, baby?” Louis asked, “What’s your color, darling?”

“Green,” Harry said without hesitation. Because as painful as this was, it was an amazing sort of pain. A beautiful sort of pain. And Harry had never known prior to meeting Louis that pain could be something beautiful and peaceful. But it was.

Louis landed a few more spanks to Harry’s ass. Harry stopped crying out as loudly as he had originally. Eventually, the pain became more so a buzzing presence on his flesh more so than an actual painful experience. It was a constant feeling buzzing on his flesh. But it wasn’t unpleasant. And Harry actually wondered how it could be the opposite of unpleasant. But it was. It was actually...nice? Of course it hurt. It hurt very much. Louis’ slaps were sharp and biting. But the contact of Louis’ hand was something that was also assuring. Harry felt safe. Harry felt good. And his mind relaxed. He could do this. He was doing this. This was really happening. And he was handling it.

The last smack landed the hardest and Harry wimpered against Louis’ leg. A soft touch of Louis’ hand rubbing small circles on Harry’s ass pulled Harry back.

“You did so well, darling. So, _so_ well for me,” Louis kissed the dip of Harry’s back once again, “Why don’t we have a cuddle, love? Come here,” Louis helped Harry up and arranged him so that he was sitting on Louis’ lap, head ducked against Louis’ neck. He didn’t realize until Louis wiped gently at his cheeks that he’d been crying.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” Harry felt suddenly angry with himself. He didn’t want Louis to think he’d done something wrong or that Harry hadn’t enjoyed it.

“Shh…” Louis kissed the tears from Harry’s cheeks, “It happens, baby. You’re overwhelmed. It’s okay. You can cry, my love. Did you know how good you did for me, darling? I am so proud of you. You handled fifteen. And I didn’t even hold back once. I wanted you to experience it fully. And I may have even dug into you harder than I typically would. But you handled it so, so well. And I am _so_ proud of you.”

Harry felt his insides turn to melted chocolate. He felt warm and safe and he clutched Louis’ shirt in his fists, trying to make himself as small as possible to fit into Louis’ arms. It felt so amazing, so safe, in Louis’ lap. Harry felt like this was where he belonged - in Louis’ arms. In Louis’ arms was his heaven and his paradise. He never wanted Louis to let go.

“I-I did well?” Harry asked shyly.

“So well, my beautiful boy. You did amazing. I am so, so proud, darling,” Louis lifted Harry’s chin with his index finger and began to shower him in kisses - he kissed every spot on Harry’s face until Harry was giggling in his arms. And then, Louis ducked down and kissed Harry on the mouth. Their first real kiss.

And Harry was certain he’d never been kissed like that before in his life. Louis’ kiss was tender, his tongue was soft against Harry’s. But for as tender as the kiss was, Louis also took to nipping and sucking at Harry’s bottom lip until Harry let out a soft moan. And Louis smiled into the kiss, satisfied.

“My beautiful boy,” Louis mumbled against Harry’s mouth.

And Harry felt as though he was underwater. Everything was swimmy and soft. Everything was beautiful and right. Louis’ kisses were a drug, and Harry felt instantly hooked - addicted. After a few moments, Louis pulled away, kissing once on the tip of Harry’s nose.

“Stay here with me tonight,” Louis said, “We’ll watch Parks and Rec and just have a sleep over together, darling. How’s that sound, baby?”

“Sounds perfect,” Harry mumbled, voice still soft and wrecked. His mind still felt slightly floaty. Words spilled from his lips in a tumbly mess.

“Come on then, darling,” Louis lifted Harry up in his arms. And Harry wondered how it was possible Louis was so strong. Harry was so much taller than Louis - by heads even! But Louis picked Harry up in his arms as if he weighed nothing. And Harry wrapped his legs tightly around Louis’ body as Louis carried him back out to the living room.

They were arranged back on the couch, cuddled against each other. Louis was playing with Harry’s curls again. Half way through one of the episodes, Louis asked -

“Love, do you still think this is something you want with me?”

“Lou, I know it is. I know it is even more after tonight. I don’t want anything else but this with you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot has been happening, so I mostly have been sticking to one shots to get my writing fix in. But I will try to update when I can. This chapter is pretty much a bit of a filler to fast forward a bit and show you where H&L's relationship is now and how things are working for them. Like I said, I'm sorry I can't update this regularly. But I will when I can. Thank you for being patient with me.

A month passed.

Harry moved in with Louis. It wasn’t anything sudden, but a slow and gradual thing that started out with Harry sleeping over at Louis’ more often than not. He’d bring over bags with changes of clothes and toiletries, and end up keeping them at Louis’. He had his own drawer within a week. And quickly after, he had half the dresser and one whole side of Louis’ walk-in closet. Louis had taken down the pictures in his bedroom, putting them in a box and shoving them away in the back of his closet. Harry’s turn table and his records made its way over to Louis’ living room. And soon, Harry’s own apartment was just a technicality.

It was one day when Harry and Louis were cuddling in bed and Louis was nuzzling his nose into Harry’s collarbone that Louis said, “So my love, do you think you want to make this living arrangement more official? You do practically live here as it is.”

And that was that. Harry closed the lease on his apartment and was officially moved in with Louis. To celebrate, Louis pronounced they needed to throw a party to welcome Harry into his new home. That was going to be the first night Harry would be meeting all of Louis’ friends all at once for the first time. And Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous. He had no idea what they would think of him. He desperately wanted their approval.

But when the night of the party arrived, Louis had scurried around making everything absolutely perfect. He had a caterer provide all of their favorites and he had gone around introducing Harry with his hand on the small of his back and with a prideful voice, “This is my boyfriend, Harry.” And Harry couldn’t help but swell with pride at Louis addressing him with that title. They had always referred to each other as that, but Harry would never get tired of hearing the word fall lovingly from Louis’ lips. Louis called Harry his as though he was showing off his most treasured possession. And Harry couldn’t help the butterflies from fluttering in his stomach.

Of course, all of Louis’ friends loved and adored Harry instantly. They asked him a bunch of questions and they laughed at Harry’s ridiculous jokes - but genuinely, not at him. And Louis was wearing the biggest, crinkly eyed smile. Harry would send Louis little glances and Louis looked so in his element and Harry couldn’t help but feel as though he was falling completely in love with this boy. They still hadn’t exactly said the words just yet. Though Harry knew. He felt it every day with Louis. Even when Louis’ was tearing into him, he felt so loved and treasured and cared for.

And Louis did tear into him.

In the month, they had pushed boundaries together and discovered so much. There was some stuff Harry was still uncomfortable with, and Louis never pushed or pressured. Sometimes Harry would be punished. He never really did anything too horrible to deserve punishments. Mostly it was just talking back during scenes or something. Louis did not brook backtalk during scenes, that was for damn sure. And that was something Harry learned very, very quickly. Outside of scenes, Louis adored banter and teasing and loved Harry’s sass. But in a scene, it was absolutely unacceptable. And Harry knew that. Though sometimes, even still, he couldn’t help himself. The sass would just slip. And Louis would get that look in his eye and would order Harry over the bed for his punishment.

They had explored with different implements. Louis had a little collection of “playthings.” Louis had used a paddle, his belt, a hairbrush. But while they both loved the different sensations each implement provided, Harry and Louis still loved spankings the most. Louis confided in Harry he liked them because he could feel it too in his hand and that, to him, made it more intimate. And Harry agreed, understanding what Louis’ meant full-heartedly.

Louis’ had started on his photography project. He photographed Harry before scenes - kneeling on the floor with his hands clasped behind his back, or bent over the bed with a wide-eyed look. He photographed Harry after scenes, with a red bum or lash marks or wet cheeks and puffy lips and blissed out eyes. He photographed Harry standing at the kitchen, barefoot and stirring a pot of pasta sauce on the stove. He photographed both of them, laying on the couch in each other’s arms laughing and giggling. He photographed them both kissing. And he photographed Harry falling asleep on his shoulder during movie night.

Harry loved the photographs - loved what they meant and loved knowing that other’s would see them too and be given a glimpse of their life and love. And Harry could hardly wait for the opening of Louis’ gallery showcase. It would be awhile yet, Harry knew. But he still was excited at the thought. He was already so proud of Lou, he could burst. He couldn’t even imagine how proud he was sure to be at the opening.

“...he thought the giraffe’s face was his neck!” Harry cackled and the little cluster of Louis’ friends laughed along with him. Louis came up behind him, wrapping his arm around Harry’s waist and saying -

“Oh gosh, not that one again, Haz!”

“I like that one!” Harry protested.

“Yeah, Lou,” Louis’ friend, Zayn, spoke up, “It’s cute.”

Louis’ face suddenly split in two with the amount of fond he was sporting. His eyes crinkled with the biggest and warmest smile as he lifted Harry’s hand to his lips to kiss, “Yes,” Louis sighed, “I must say, this one is quite cute.”

“We’re really happy for you, Lou,” Zayn’s boyfriend, Liam, added, “You seem so happy. I don’t even remember the last time we saw you this happy. It’s...it’s nice.”

“Well that’s all thanks to this one,” Louis wrapped his arm around Harry once again, giving him a gentle squeeze, “Harry here is one of the better things to happen to me in my life. He really is. He keeps me on my toes, and honestly...I don’t think anyone else could ever compare to him,” Louis was looking only at Harry as he spoke. And Harry felt the butterflies resurface in his tummy. It was clear to anyone that they were crazy about each other. They were always attached at the hip - the couple to steal kisses and to grab each other’s bums in public. The couple to lean into each other and giggle over inside jokes in the middle of a conversation. They were _that_ couple.

They would tease each other relentlessly too as well. When out with their friends, they would banter back and forth like an old married couple. They could call each other “bastard” and “ass” and say so with the fondest look of love in their eyes. And Harry noticed a visible change in his boyfriend throughout the past few weeks. Louis had been shining brighter than ever lately. A smile pretty much constantly on his face. And Harry supposed he wasn’t much better. They were head over heels, they were. They just had yet to say those three little words.

After the party guests all left, Harry and Louis began to clean up the mess they’d left behind.

“They loved you, my love,” Louis smiled excitedly, dumping some of the plastic party plates into the trash bag Harry was holding open, tossing in plastic party cups.

“I hope so...I wanted them to.”

“Of course they did, darling. Who wouldn’t love you?”

And then the room seemed to pause. Louis opened his mouth as if to say more, but no words came. Harry bit his lower lip and suddenly became very interested in the pattern of the living room rug. Louis took a deep breath and walked over to where Harry was standing. He gently pulled the garbage bag from Harry’s hands and tossed it aside. Harry opened his mouth to protest but Louis didn’t care. He grabbed Harry’s hands in his own, rubbing the pads of his thumbs across the tops of Harry’s hands.

“My beautiful boy,” Louis was blushing now and Harry felt a tightness in his stomach, “I’m no good at saying this,” Louis sighed, seemingly cross with himself, “I wish I wasn’t, but I am. It’s just...it frustrates me because sometimes there’s so much I want to say and I just can’t manage to find words enough to do so.”

“Lou…” Harry tilted his head fondly, “...you don’t have to say anything.”

“But I do,” Louis insisted, “Hazza, I love you. I love you so much. And I have for awhile now. I love you unconditionally and fully and I’ve wanted to say so for awhile now. It’s just...those words,” Louis sighed again, “they don’t feel like enough! They’re too...simple for what I feel for you.”

“What do you feel for me then?” Harry asked gently.

“Like...with you my life just makes sense. With you by my side I can do anything in the world I wanted. I feel like...I feel like I have everything in the world in you. I have my lover, my partner, my best friend. I love every second I spend with you. You make me the happiest I’ve been ever. You...you are my deepest love. You just...you get me, Haz. You...oh my God. This is so cheesy. But...you complete me. You make me feel like the fullest I can be. Like...as if my life makes sense with you in it.”

Harry was overwhelmed. He pulled Louis against him, holding him close and nuzzling against the the crook of Louis’ neck, “Oh, Lou! I love you too. I love you so, so much! And I feel everything you just described. I feel those things for you too, Louis. My life makes sense with you in it. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be, or anyone else I’d rather be with - than here with you.”

“Well that’s good,” Louis pulled back with a playful smirk, “because you do officially live here now, babe.”

“That I do,” Harry nodded, he smirked and pointed to the horribly handmade sign Louis’ had hung on the wall that said - WELCOME HOME HARRY in sloppy bubble letters, “If that beautiful sign up there is accurate.”

Louis let out a snort, “Do not make fun of my sign, Harold. I put a lot of time and effort into making that for you. And hanging it. I fell _twice_ , mind you. Bruised up my knee by bonking it into the coffee table on my second fall. Be grateful, you. Or I shall be forced to take it down and toss you out on the streets.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Harry giggled.

Louis rolled his eyes. Clearly, Harry was not intimidated by his threats. “Alright,” Louis sighed, “You got me. But only because with you gone, who on earth would possibly cook for me? I would be forced to go back to frozen meals and macaroni and that’s just not acceptable, my dear.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I clearly only keep you around for your cooking.”

“Glad to know,” they were both smiling, eyes sparkling as if made of gems. And Louis grabbed Harry by the waist and kissed him sweetly.

“Welcome home, Harry.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets punished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What have I just done?
> 
> I never write smut. Ever. Ever. Ever. I read it. I love it. But I just never have been able to write it. Until now. And holy crap! I am quite overwhelmed with this chapter in the best of ways and hope you are as well! 
> 
> Since this is my first real time writing smut, can you please give me some feedback on how it is? Thank you!!

Harry had been officially living with Louis for two weeks the first time he really experienced the wrath of an angry Louis. He supposed things were a bit different with them living together now and what not. Even though they had been pretty much living with each other for awhile before then, it was as if now it was finally official. And that meant putting up with and witnessing each other’s worst qualities. And while they annoyed each other sometimes, Harry always held true to Louis’ only real rule - be respectful. He was never blatantly rude to his boyfriend. Even in banter, there was still that line there and Harry knew where it was.

But one day, they were just digging into each other constantly it seemed. They’d both make snide remarks and Harry would harp that Louis had yet to sort through the laundry and Louis would complain that they never had anything yummy to eat in the pantry since Harry had rid it of all Louis’ junk food. Things were just tense.

Harry knew he’d fucked up the second the words had spilled from his mouth. Louis was sitting on the couch typing up an email when Harry had come into the living room with the laundry hamper balanced on his hip.

“I hope you know I went ahead and sorted your laundry for you. And washed everything. Don’t suppose you want me to fold it all for you too, hmm?”

“What?” Louis asked, not taking his eyes off his laptop that was propped up on his thighs, “Uh...I’m working on this email right now. Can you just fold it for me?”

“Excuse me?” Harry’s eyes widened slightly, “I asked four times to sort your laundry. You never did. So I did it for you. And then I even washed it all for you too. Just so you could have your clean dress shirt for tonight for dinner out. And now you want me to fold it for you too?”

“Harry, not now,” Louis mumbled.

“God!” Harry grabbed a balled up sock from the hamper and threw it right at his boyfriend’s head, “You can be such an ass!”

It bounced off Louis’ forehead and as soon as Harry registered what he’d done, his eyes went wide.

“Shit!” He hissed, “Shit! Louis, I am so, so sorry! I didn’t mean that!”

Louis took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples for a moment with his fingertips while Harry fish mouthed from his place next to the television. He honestly had no idea what to say.

Very calmly, Louis pulled his hands from his forehead and turned to Harry. His eyes were icy and his tone was frigid but calm as he said, “Bedroom. Now. One your knees next to the bed. Wait for me."

Harry scrambled to do as Louis had instructed. He left the hamper on the floor and scurried into the bedroom. He knelt down next to his side of the bed, putting his hands folded neatly behind his back. He kept his head down, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He’d never done anything like that before. This was completely new. And he had no idea how Louis’ would react to what he’d done. He tried to focus on his breathing - in and out, in and out. Shit. Why had he done that? Louis only ever asked one thing of Harry and that was respect. And Harry had totally fucked that up, hadn’t he? Finally, he heard a voice clearly next to the door. Harry lifted his head warily to see Louis standing there, arms folded over his chest.

“So,” Louis exhaled, “You can listen when I ask something of you.”

Harry bit down on his lip to keep from letting out a whimper.

“All you had to do was wait until I finished my email. And you couldn’t do that. And then...then something must have overcome you to think that throwing something at me and calling me an ass was acceptable behavior. Surely something must have possessed you. Because I know you wouldn’t dare do something like that.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears stinging already. “Louis, I am so, so sorr - “

“Did I tell you you could speak?” Louis asked, clearly affronted. Harry hung his head lower as Louis continued, “Stand up and take off your clothes. Then lie down across the mattress.”

Harry scrambled to do as Louis said. His legs were shaky as he quickly peeled out of his clothes and set them aside. He moved to the bed, leaning over it, his arms propping him up slightly, his ass in the air, and his forehead against his folded forearms. He could hear Louis behind him, unbuckling his belt. Harry froze. It wasn’t as if he hated the belt. Louis would never hurt him with something Harry hadn’t agreed upon prior. It was just that they both preferred spanking over anything. But spanking was intimate. And this? This was punishment. Harry felt his heart pounding against his ribcage. They’d only used the belt like two or three times before. It was only really to test it out and play around with. Never for punishment before. Harry could feel his pulse in his ears - the rush of blood racing through his system.

“Going to have to punish you for that,” Louis said, folding the belt in half in his hand. He sighed as he said, “Tell me what you’re being pushed for, H?”

“I-I…” Harry had to focus so hard just to recall how to form words, “I was disrespect...disrespectful towards you. I...I called you a bad name out of anger and not in banter. And I...I threw a sock at your head. And...and I didn’t...didn’t listen.”

“What’s your word?” Louis asked. Harry hated hearing Louis’ talk to him like this - all void of any pet names. This most certainly wasn’t just play, this was definitely punishment. Harry took a deep breath before responding --

“Pineapple.”

“Again.”

“Pineapple.”

“One more time.”

“Pineapple.”

“And your colors?”

“Green...yellow...red,” Harry bit his lower lip.

“Only ever gave you five hits with the belt before,” Louis ran the leather over Harry’s left cheek and Harry’s heart sped up even faster at the sensation, “But I think you need to be taught a lesson today, H. A lesson you won’t soon forget. It’ll be fifteen. I’ll ask for your color after every five though,” Louis’ voice returned to somewhat his normal tone as he said, “Okay?”

Harry nodded, “Okay.”

He was shaking so hard. He had no idea how he was ever going to take fifteen. But he wanted to at least try. If he couldn't, he could always red out and it’d stop. He knew that. But he also knew he didn’t want to stop. Wanted to take everything Louis doled out to him.

It was nerve wracking though - the way Louis’ kept caressing his ass with the belt. It was deceptively gentle and Harry kept trying to brace for what he knew was coming.

Suddenly the first hit cracked into him. It was definitely harder than he had been anticipating. Harry cried out and bit down on his forearm to try to keep as silent as possible. He honestly hadn’t expected the first blow to be so strong. Usually Louis’ worked him up. But again. This was punishment not play.

By the third strike of the belt, Harry felt as though his ass was on fire. He wasn’t sure he could take much more, much less twelve more. Louis was holding nothing back. He swung with all his force it seemed. And the sounds - the sounds echoed and imprinted into Harry’s mind. Everything was fire. Every single nerve ending of his was kicked into overdrive. He felt dizzy.

“Color,” Louis finally asked. The first five were finally done. Only two more five to go.

Harry took a shaky breath before replying, “Green.” He trusted Louis completely. Even if he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he could handle this, he knew Louis wasn’t giving him more than he thought he could handle.

Louis continued with the whipping. Harry stopped lurching and stopped biting back screams after the next five. Suddenly everything was just white. All he could see was just white. His mind felt blank. His ass felt on fire though, but the pain was more a constant burn that a sharp spark. He swallowed thickly as he heard Louis pause to wipe his own brow.

“Color,” Louis asked again.

Harry opened his mouth. The word “green” was on the tip of his tongue. He moved his lips, but no sounds came. Everything was just white. He felt floaty. Like he was on a cloud or lost in a fog somewhere.

“Hey,” Louis bent down, his lips against Harry’s ear, “Baby, you need to tell me your color. Five more to go, beautiful. You’ve got this. Please tell me your color, sweetheart.”

At the sounds of the pet names, Harry let, “Green,” fall from his lips.

Louis kissed the dip of his spine before raising the belt again and starting back up.

Harry felt himself laying back against the pillows. His ass hurt as though it were aflame but all he could focus on was how cool and soft the pillows felt against his head. Everything felt soft. There was a soft stroking on his cheek. It felt a little ticklish and Harry squinched up his face a little, thinking it was a curl that had fallen. But the sensation kept up, met this time by a soft little voice.

“Harry,” the soft voice said, “Lovey, are you with me, my darling? Harry. Come back to me, please baby.”

Harry blinked his eyes open. He was laying back against the pillows. Louis was laying down next to him, one arm propping his head up, the other hand lose to run a finger over Harry’s cheek repeatedly. Harry blinked again, trying to gather where he was and what had happened. He was in their bed in their bedroom and his boy was smiling sweetly and fondly at him. And Harry couldn’t help but smile back. He could feel his face break out into a massive grin and he knew his dimples were on full display. Louis’ own smile grew ten-fold. The creases by his eyes deepened.

“Hi,” Harry said lazily.

“Hi,” Louis bit his bottom lip, blushing slightly and staring at Harry with such fondness and love in his eyes. Harry couldn’t believe that there was someone in the world who would stare at him like that - like as if Harry was the whole world.

“Are you with me?” Louis asked.

“Getting there,” Harry mumbled, “Hi.”

“Hi again,” Louis pressed his lips against Harry’s cheek, “Welcome back, baby. Can you sit up for me a bit, love? You need to drink some water. I have a glass here for you.”

Harry shifted with Louis’ help. He sat up against the headboard, trying not to pay too close attention to the pain in his rear. He knew Louis had really done a number on him. Louis looked exhausted. Harry watched Louis as Louis helped him hold the glass and drink. His fringe was matted to his forehead and his face was red. There was sweat beading on his upper lip.

“You did so well for me,” Louis said fondly while Harry swallowed his water, “So proud of how well you took that, baby.”

Harry finished his water and Louis sat the glass aside, “ ‘m sorry I was so bad,” Harry said, shying away slightly.

“Hey, no none of that,” Louis protested. He held out his arms and Harry quickly nuzzled into Louis’ embrace. Louis’ peppered his cheeks and nose with soft little kisses, “You are not bad, Harry. You weren’t bad. You just misbehaved today and I had to remind you that that isn’t okay. I’m not mad at you, lovey. I could never stay mad at you, my sweet.”

“Don’t wanna...don’t wanna make you mad.”

“I know baby, I know. But we’re a couple, right? We’re gonna get a little pissed at each other sometimes. Do you know why I made you wait for me first? Because I wanted to cool off a bit before punishing you. I had already forgiven you and wasn’t mad at all when I was whipping you. I needed time to cool off first though. You were already forgiven, my love. But you still needed to be taught a lesson. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, swallowing thickly, “Big difference...’tween...play and punishment.”

Louis chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss into Harry’s dimple, “You’re right about that, baby. You’re okay though, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Harry nodded, “Cuddles.”

“Always,” Louis held Harry tighter against him, giving him an Eskimo kiss, “You look so beautiful, love. Your lips and cheeks are all red and kissable. Your eyelashes love...wet with tears. You look absolutely wrecked baby. And you know what the best part is?”

“Hmm?” Harry blushed, smiling at Louis’ sweet words.

“That after I break you, I get to put you back together again,” Louis sat up a little kneeling next to Harry, “Lie back against the pillows, love. Just like that.”

Harry did as Louis instructed. He was still completely naked. The cool sheets felt nice against his raw skin. Louis moved to straddle Harry’s hips.

“Gonna put you back together now, okay?” Louis asked, his voice small and gentle and Harry nodded, wondering how Louis’ was going to do that.

Louis pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead, “Love your forehead, baby. Love the way your curls sweep down and fall into your eyes,” Louis pressed a kiss to each of Harry’s under eye sockets, “Love your eyes too, my love. The most beautiful shade of green I’ve ever seen. Like emeralds. Stunning, Harry. Always so stunning. I love your cheeks too,” Louis pressed kisses into Harry’s cheeks, “Love your little freckles that pop up when you’ve been in the sun a little too long. Love your dimples too,” Louis pressed a finger where he knew one was hiding while kissing the other, “Cutest boy in the world with those dimples. Have me wrapped around your little finger with those dimples.”

Harry’s stomach fluttered. He could feel himself blushing all over. Louis worked his way down, kissing at his lips next, “Love your lips. So red and swollen and kissable all the time. You taste like candy, Hazza. So sweet.” Louis moved to Harry’s ear next, his breath hot and tickly as he spoke against it, “Love your little ears too, baby. Everything about you is so, so big except your tiny little ears,” Louis bit at one of Harry’s earlobes before working his way to Harry’s neck, “Love your neck too. Love the little freckle you have here,” Louis licked at one of the freckles on Harry’s neck, “And love the way you giggle when I…” Louis blew a raspberry into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry shrieked and tried to shoulder it. Louis laughed and repeated the same to the other side as Harry giggled uncontrollably.

“Love your laugh,” Louis said, “Could listen to you laugh all day. Most beautiful sound in the world, really. My favorite sound in the world.”

Louis moved down to Harry’s chest, “Love your chest. Love your beautiful birds you have here,” Louis kissed the two birds tattooed on Harry’s chest, “So beautiful. Love the fact that you have four nipples,” Louis kissed each other Harry’s nipples and Harry felt the bigger two of the four stiffen at the touch. He was still blushing all over, but could feel the blush primarily right in his cock. Louis had said he was putting Harry back together but this? This felt more like being completely taken apart piece by piece. Louis lapped at one of the nipples while teasing the other with his fingertips.

“Love your nipples so much, H. Love how beautiful they look when they’re pink and puffy,” Louis pinched the nipple between his fingers and Harry let out a sharp gasp. Louis smirked, “Love the sound you make when I do that,” Louis glanced down Harry’s body, eyes widening a little, “Love the reaction in your cock when I do that too, love. Love how red and leaking it is - impatient for me already. But don’t worry,” Louis smirked, giving both nipples a sharp twist, “I’ll get to that all in good time.”

Harry rolled his eyes because really. Louis was completely undoing him. His toes curled as Louis peppered soft kisses down Harry’s torso. His cock felt so heavy resting against his stomach, twitching every now and then. He already had a small pool of precome gathered at his belly. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last of this. He needed Louis’ mouth like he needed air.

“Love your stomach too,” Louis said, raking his nails over Harry’s ivory skin. The sensation sent a million goosebumps over his arms and legs and back of his neck. Louis was trying to kill him. It was official. “Love your lovehandles,” Louis squeezed at the doughy lovehandles at Harry’s hips, “And love how,” Louis paused to scribble his fingers across Harry’s soft pooch of a stomach, making Harry squirm and giggle underneath him, “ticklish you are.”

“Please!” Harry begged, “Louis, please!”

“Please what?” Louis grinned, tickling up to Harry’s ribs, “Looks like I forgot something.”

“No!” Harry shrieked as Louis’ launched his attack on his ribs, “Louis! Lou! No! Please!”

Louis smirked, “Love your ribs too,” his tickling stilled as he lifted a single finger to trace over each rib, which honestly Harry wasn’t sure was much better. He was shaking now, overwhelmed with sensations and giggling uncontrollably as Louis counted each of his ribs slowly and tortuously.

“You’re...you’re killing me!” Harry gasped out.

Louis chuckled, “Alrighty then,” his hands stilled against Harry’s torso, “I could always stop.”

He had stopped. Everything stopped. Louis withdrew his hands completely, folding his arms over his chest and raising a brow. Harry was going to kill him.

“Louis I swear to God!” Harry threw his head back against the pillows.

“You told me stop,” Louis shrugged innocently, “Shame though,” Louis tapped at the head of Harry’s cock with his finger, “Was gonna pay special attention here. But since you want me to stop…” Louis swiped his finger over the slit, spreading Harry’s precome as he did so before pulling off and crossing his arms again.

Harry bucked his hips and let out a groan from deep within his throat, “Louis...I swear to God...if you don’t touch me right now...I’m going to murder you.”

“Good luck with that,” Louis giggled, “Considering the fact I don’t think you can even move right now. Much less murder me!”

“Louis!” Harry gritted his teeth, bucking again. He was desperate. He’d never felt so wrecked out of his mind before. He needed sensation. He needed Louis’ hands on him - on his cock - right this instant.

“What do you need, baby?” Louis asked, trailing a finger down the vein in Harry’s cock, “Use your words, pet.”

Harry’s legs were shaking. He felt as though every nerve in his body were on fire.

“Touch...me!”

“But darling,” Louis smirked again, teasing his fingernails over the tip while Harry bucked and groaned under his touch, “I am.”

“You’re such...a...fucking...tease!” Harry gritted out as Louis continued to tickle at his head. This was unbearable. Absolutely unbearable.

“Love making you desperate for it,” Louis said, speeding up his tickling a little, “Look how blown out you are already. Haven’t even had my mouth yet and you look like you could come in just seconds.”

“Hate you...so...much,” Harry was shaking so hard now. He had no control of his legs anymore it seemed. He felt as though every bit of blood in his body had drained down into his cock.

Louis smirked, leaning down a bit so that his mouth was right at Harry’s tip as he said, “And why should I suck the cock of someone who hates me?”

“Jesus Christ!” Harry gripped his hands into the sheets.

“Tell me...what you...need,” Louis said, punctuating each few words with teasing little licks.

“You!” Harry shrieked, “You, you absolute idiot!”

“All you have to do,” Louis continued to tickle his fingernails on Harry’s head, “is say please.”

Harry’s voice was utterly wrecked as he gasped out the most desperate, “Please!” of his life.

“As you wish, love,” Louis grinned, swallowing Harry down.


End file.
